


A Second Chance at Happiness? Maybe?

by animeotaku20



Series: When Harry Met Regulus (In the Past) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Time Travel, Dark Harry Potter, Harry is a Little Shit, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Regulus Black Lives, Time Travel, kind of, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-04-19 20:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 46,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14245221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animeotaku20/pseuds/animeotaku20
Summary: A stupidly curious Harry Potter accidentally ends up in the past ... right in front of Regulus Black. Deciding he might as well stop the world going to hell, a - slightly insane - Potter drags a bewildered Regulus with him. Between ending a war and accidentally saving the Blacks, the two quickly get close. Will they have a second chance at happiness? Maybe?





	1. I shouldn't even be surprised anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'.

He looked around the dilapidated house and felt a sickly feeling coil in his stomach, wriggling as he considered what this place meant to him as a person. This was now his house but he wasn't sure he could consider it a home, not with that state it was in.

Wallpaper peeling off the walls, scratched paint, faint scorch-marks that infuriated him when he thought of their origins ... That didn't even touch on the innate design of the imposing house, with rooms filled with questionable objects, the imposing décor to intimidate visitors, and the sensation of dark magic emanating from the very walls. 'Nightmare' didn't even begin to describe this place.

Harry knew that cleaning out Grimmauld Place was a task for professionals, but this was the house where he'd lived with Sirius, as brief a time as it had been, and he wanted to do it himself. This house had belonged to the Blacks before it passed to Sirius, and he'd left it for Harry. Not the Order, not Remus, Harry.

This place was his now and it was where his godfather had grown up. The building housed memories of his godfather, existing as the only way into the childhood of Sirius Orion Black. He hadn't ever been the most mature person or the most open-minded, but he'd still cared for Harry as his godfather. It was the only place that connected them, and he was loathe to let others – let  _strangers_  – barge in and change everything. If things were to change it would be because  _he_  was doing it, not anyone else.

He'd never had a home to share with someone he cared about before (other than his current situation with Teddy and Andromeda which had only been happening for less than a year), and despite the dubious nature of the place he wasn't about to hand off such a personal project to some random person. He could imagine it now; they'd either brag about being the one chosen to restore the home of the 'great' Harry Potter, The-Man-Who-Conquered (and really, what was up with magicals and hyphenated titles?), or they'd gleefully run screaming to the Ministry that the oh-so-pure Harry Potter had a home housing a number of dark and illegal artefacts.

People were arseholes. Though he did think it would be hilarious to see Kingsley try and explain that he'd already been in said house and seen said artefacts.

The kitchen had finally been scrubbed to perfection, the drawing room looked genuinely impressive with its gleaming grand piano and display cases of benign heirlooms, and the bedrooms were all to order once more. He'd kept Sirius' room the way it had been, lewd muggle pictures and all, and Regulus' room too was restored to its previous state. It might seem a little odd to anyone else but he couldn't bear the thought of changing the rooms.

Sirius' room was proof that he hadn't bowed down to anyone's expectations, the Gryffindor colours and muggle decorations painting a clear picture of teenage defiance. While Harry couldn't really understand acting like that, never having had guardians who'd wanted him to become a crazy bastard for prestige, he didn't want to forget who Sirius had been. This room encapsulated all that Sirius had been and it was going to stay that way.

The other room was quite odd to him but he couldn't bring himself to desecrate the image of Regulus Black in any way. He'd joined the Death Eaters, yes, but he'd gone into that cave knowing he could die and had even sent Kreacher away instead of trying to get help. Regulus was a man to be respected for his sacrifice and Harry could easily call him a hero. Granted it was easier to deem him a hero rather than Snape; Regulus Black hadn't been a man in his thirties who liked to bully eleven-year-olds for something that wasn't their fault.  _Petty arsehole._

He leaned back and stretched his arms above him head, grimacing at the cracking sounds coming from his back. He shifted from side to side to try and east the tense feeling and sighed in frustration. Harry was currently in the attic and had just come across a box that more or less screamed 'illegal'. It looked beyond creepy, a jet black wood engraved with images of dead trees and flowers, and Harry could almost feel the dark magic emanating from it. He knew that dark magic wasn't necessarily evil, but this feeling was beyond awful.

The problem was that even though Harry had almost been placed in Slytherin for a reason, he wouldn't have gone into Gryffindor if he hadn't been brave in some way or another. Even worse was that Harry was a very curious individual and his bravery often translated into doing things that he logically knew he shouldn't, but he still did because he was too drawn in by the temptation. (Just because he often did stupid things didn't mean he was unaware of his faults.)

With his inner logic telling him it was a bad,  _bad_  idea, Harry did as he usually did when that inner voice piped up and resolutely ignored it. He opened the creepy box and took a quick peak inside to see if anything could be salvaged from the evil-feeling magic, before he heard a frantic shout coming from behind him. He stood up and spun around, eyes glimpsing an old portrait before he fell backwards onto the box, smashing its contents and landing right in the centre.

He felt a strange pulling sensation like a portkey in his stomach, accompanied by a creeping blackness behind his eyelids. His last thought before he lost consciousness was to question why Sirius' family had been so nuts. That, and why he couldn't just listen to that bloody inner voice of his for once.

* * *

Waking up, Harry groaned at the rhythmic pounding in his head. He hissed at the bright lights in the room and clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out the sharp pain. He  _knew_  he shouldn't have opened that bloody box, but once more he proved he was more curious than a box of Kneazles and completely ignored common sense. Why he did things like this he'd never know, and it was even worse to realise he'd probably end up doing something this stupid again.

He wiggled his body and resisted the urge to swear violently, knowing full well the situation was his own damn fault. Usually returning to the land of the living was accompanied by soft pillows, a warm duvet, and the smell of food wafting through the house from one of the interfering house-elves from Hogwarts who'd randomly decided to work for him after the war. (No matter what anyone said to him he was convinced the small creatures were all insane.)

Returning to consciousness this time was  _not_  as comfortable as usual, not least of all because he was tied tightly to a chair, and a rather uncomfortable chair at that. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened his eyes and blinked rapidly to adjust to the light. He looked up and surveyed the room, realising that he was apparently still in Grimmauld Place if his eyes weren't deceiving him, and he looked to be in one of the sitting rooms upstairs.

Though it was certainly strange; the paint wasn't faded and peeling, he couldn't see the damage from any of the numerous infestations the room had suffered, and the old-fashioned décor looked cared-for instead of falling apart. The curtains hadn't been chewed through by Doxies either, and he was startled to realise there were many more artefacts in the room than he'd previously thought.

It was when someone entered the room that his mind froze, chest beating rapidly at the visage of the man before him.

_Sirius._

No, wait. This wasn't Sirius. He was taller than Sirius, more refined in his wardrobe, and his facial expression was tempered by a control his over-enthusiastic godfather had never bothered with. This was  _Regulus._  Harry recognised him from the various photos he'd seen over the years, dotted all over Grimmauld Place and the one Slughorn had shown him.

Somehow his life had once more taken a turn for the unexpected – and this seemed to be  _really_  unexpected, even for him – and he was now face-to-face with Sirius' dead brother, who was actually looking rather well for a man who'd probably been eaten by magical swimming zombies.

All in all, Harry was surprised but not too surprised by something like this happening. Either he was dead and his fellow dead man had tied him to a chair for some reason, which wouldn't be the strangest thing that had ever happened in his mad mad life, or he was in the past.  _Great_.

He thought he could be excused for the sudden decline in his ability to care anymore.

"Am I dead?" he questioned rather apathetically.

The grey eyes looked at him with an unimpressed but confused expression, as though Harry was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out. Given the circumstances he couldn't blame him. Harry was familiar with the puzzled expression though, it usually appearing whenever he said or did something that didn't quite conform to people's expectations of what The-Boy-Who-Lived should be like. It's not as if he was a person who had his own ideas or anything.  _Idiots_.

"No, you are not. Would you care to tell me how you got in this house?"  _Oh look, he got his equilibrium back._  He had a feeling it was a pure-blood thing.

Harry blinked at him, trying to figure out which way this would go. "Er, okay. I was cleaning the attic of this house, then I smashed a box, blacked out, and woke up tied to a chair."

Regulus scoffed and glared at him. "You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you?"

"Well considering the Regulus Arcturus Black I know of is very much dead, I can only assume I'm dead too or I'm somehow in the past," he mused, "which given the crap that usually happens to me, I wouldn't be too surprised about."

 _That_  seemed to get a reaction, and Harry was rather smug about managing to break the other man's composure. Regulus looked beyond shocked at his words, as though the apparent time travel was a complete novelty. Harry honestly thought after years upon years of his crazy life this really wasn't the worst thing that could happen by a long shot, but what did he know?

"The past?"

"Hmm, what year is it?"

"Nineteen seventy-nine. It's July," Regulus bit out, looking quite tense

Harry swore under his breath. "I'm not even born yet. Hell, I haven't even been  _conceived_ yet. Great."

The Black narrowed his eyes; it would have been more intimidating if he weren't so pale from fear. He also had the same eyes as Sirius, who hadn't been the most serious of men anyway, no pun intended.

"Who are you?"

Should he answer truthfully?  _Hmm … why not._

"Harry Potter."

Grey eyes widened minutely. "Potter? Like James Potter?"

"My father," he stated.

After the brief questioning Harry sat back and watched Regulus go over the new information in his head. The man was a true Slytherin and Harry knew full well that he hadn't provided any absolutely irrefutable evidence to support his words. There was no doubt in his mind that Regulus would force him to tell the truth, either through a Vow or Veritaserum. Not that Harry could blame him; despite his appearance in Grimmauld Place not having a decent explanation otherwise that didn't mean that Harry was telling the truth. Not that he could be bothered to lie about anything. Though Regulus unfortunately wasn't aware of Harry more or less being out of fucks to give and not caring who knew that time travel was a thing.

He didn't care too much about what the other man would try and do to him; he could probably break the ropes around him considering his magically-repairing and reappearing wand that wouldn't just leave him the fuck alone. (Why he'd thought simply snapping and throwing a wand bestowed by Death down a ravine would serve to get rid of it, he had no idea.) The benefit to having the Elder Wand (aka the wand that doesn't stay broken) was that it couldn't be taken from him by anyone else – one of the 'perks' of being the Master of Death. Another included the ring that was on a necklace around his neck, and he took a moment to wonder if there were now duplicates of the Hallows. What did that mean for the ring Horcrux?

"That doesn't explain how you got in the house." Regulus' voiced broke through his contemplation, and Harry looked up to see a troubled expression on the other man's face. He had a feeling that Regulus had already figured out the future wasn't all sunshine and roses if a Potter was roaming freely through a Black property.

"It's my house in the future and I inherited it from Sirius when he died. He was my godfather and the last Black left, so ironically he inherited everything even though he ran away." Harry always did think it was a funny turn of events.

"He died?" There was a broken quality to Regulus' voice as though he couldn't comprehend the words Harry was speaking. He could relate. Even after seeing Sirius fall through the Veil he hadn't been able to wrap his head around it. Sirius was Sirius, and him being dead wasn't something that should have been reality. Harry saw a flicker of misery in Regulus' eyes and felt awful that the two brothers had died thinking that the other hated them, when the reality was that the opposite had been true.

Perhaps he could change that.

He might be the sort of person who ran into crazy situations without thinking things through but he was well-aware of the intricacies of time travel. Hermione had gone on about it long enough after third year that he knew about all sorts of problems that could occur if someone messed with the timeline.

People could die, people might not be born, and things might change too drastically. On the other hand, hundreds of people had died first time around, his parents would probably get around to having a kid or two eventually without a war hanging over their heads, and people like Sirius wouldn't get fucked over by life.

_Screw keeping the timeline in order._

"He was killed by Bellatrix."

Grey eyes widened. "She –"

He stopped suddenly, hissing in pain as he clutched his forearm tightly as if to cut off the feeling. He breathed in and out for a few moments to get the pain under control before he grabbed something in his pocket. Regulus started to pull it out so that he could look at it, and Harry got a brief glimpse of a gold chain before it was put back out of sight.

Regulus straightened up, breathing deeply as he did so. "Whether or not you're telling the truth is irrelevant at this point. I have places to be, so –"

_The chain. Like a necklace … Like a locket._

Green eyes snapped up, startling Regulus from his words with their intensity. "You're doing it now, aren't you?"

"I beg your pardon?" he frowned.

Harry glared at him. "The locket. You're about to go to the cave with Kreacher and swap the locket Horcrux with a fake."

Regulus drew a sharp breath, face paling rapidly and shoulders tense as he seemed to prepare himself for an attack. Or to hear something he didn't want to but needed to know nonetheless.

"How do you know that?" he whispered, looking terrified at the possible answer.

"Because when I was sixteen I found out that there was more than one Horcrux and that I had to hunt them down and destroy them," he replied, trying to ignore the flashes of memories from being on the run.

"… How many are there?"

Harry mentally calculated, going over Voldemort's life up until this point. "Right now there are five: Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup which is in Bellatrix's vault, Ravenclaw's diadem which is in Hogwarts, a diary which is in Malfoy Manor, and the Gaunt ring in their shack."

The man paled even further as Harry spoke. "He split his soul so many times?" His eyes then narrowed after catching the implications of Harry's words. "You said 'right now'. Does that mean he will make more?"

He nodded. "When I was fourteen he turned his familiar into one."

"I see."

"… And when I was a baby, he murdered my parents and accidentally turned me into a Horcrux."

Regulus looked horrified at the mere idea and Harry could understand why. When you truly considered what it was to carry a piece of someone else's soul in your body, especially the soul of such a tainted individual, the conclusion was beyond disgusting.

"You're a Horcrux?" Regulus murmured.

"Was." He didn't want to get into  _that_ right now. That night in the forest still gave him nightmares.

Thankfully Regulus dropped that line of enquiry and turned his attention inwards. The Black looked contemplative after the new revelations and Harry hoped that he could use his words to convince Regulus of the truth. There was no other way he could possibly know of the Horcruxes, which meant Harry was likely being honest about the others – which he was, but Regulus was a Slytherin and they were nothing but careful.

He knew that messing with time was dangerous but he hadn't been in Gryffindor for nothing. If he could do something to stop hundreds of people dying needless deaths he would do it. He could still remember the picture of the original Order of the Phoenix, and the people who'd died sometime in the next couple of years. Marlene McKinnon, Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn, the Prewett twins, Dorcas Meadowes, Edgar Bones and his family … his parents. Would it really be acceptable for him to just sit here and do nothing?

"Regulus."

Said man looked up questioningly, grey eyes meeting green with an intensity not unexpected for the situation.

"Let me help you."

Regulus looked into Harry eyes, holding his gaze for the longest time as he seemed to search for something. Eventually a determined look came across his aristocratic face and he walked closer to Harry's still-bound form. He deliberately unsheathed his wand and slowly pointed it at Harry who forced himself to remain still despite the urge to blast the other man into the wall. Regulus' expression didn't waver from the blank worry and he flicked his wand casually.

The ropes vanished into thin air and Harry was enjoying unrestricted movement once more. He stood up and stretched, wincing as his bones cracked in his back again. It kind of felt like deja vu. He turned to his companion and held out his hand with a smile.

"Hi, my name's Harry Potter."

"Regulus Black."

Their hands clasped and a partnership was formed. Harry smirked inwardly.

_Game on, Tom._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is actually a story I started after trying to write a quick oneshot/drabble for my other story 'A Different Kind of Magic', but it kind of snowballed into its own multi-chapter thing and here we are :)
> 
> It won't be incredibly long, probably about 10-15 chapters, but I've already got most of it written.
> 
> I will say this: Voldemort will not be some massively terrifying villain. He isn't necessarily the focus of the story and therefore won't have much screen time. His death will actually be pathetic. I'm not joking either, it's ridiculously crappy and pathetically quick. The only reason I'm saying this now is so I don't get tons of hate later if people get invested in the story. If you want a story with well-written action and drama, this is not the story for you. If you want Harry to be just like canon, this is not the story for you. This is entirely self-indulgent from me battling writer's block for my other stories.
> 
> Sorry for the little rant but I really hate getting massive flames from fanfiction. It's not as if it's Rowling's original story; if people want to read something just like canon why are they on this site?
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading :) Until next time :)


	2. The Deus ex Machina called 'hindsight'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'.

"Okay, to begin with: your plan's shit."

Regulus glared at him, but between growing up with Vernon and having Snape hovering over him in Hogwarts it didn't quite have the same effect. O for effort, though. The Black opened his mouth but Harry interrupted him.

"Regulus," he said, his serious tone catching the other man's attention, "this is the day that is listed as the day you died. Dead, finished, ended, take your pick. Do you really want to willingly walk into a cave and drink an unknown potion that is probably designed to kill you? Kreacher might have survived but he's a house-elf. Who knows what that stuff does to the human body? Not to mention it makes you want to drink water, which doesn't actually appear properly on the little island. You can conjure it and everything but you can't drink it. The only water available is in the lake, and if you drink from said lake all the Inferi pop up and try and kill you.

"So I'll ask again: do you really want to go and drink that potion?"

The man across from him was scowling heavily with a light flush across his face, more than likely embarrassed at the realisation that perhaps his plan wasn't the best thought out after all. It was pretty hilarious in one respect, and he finally understood why Hermione liked critiquing people so much; it was fun when you weren't the one feeling like an idiot.

"Then what do you suggest?" Regulus bit out through gritted teeth.

Harry sobered and sat up. "The boat in the lake allows for only one adult to go across, meaning both of us can't go over to the island. I'd suggest a broomstick but I'm not too hopeful, and I'd rather not get halfway across and suddenly drop into a lake of the walking dead.

"I think our best bet might be taking some sort of creature with us, something that we wouldn't feel too bad about dying, and make it drink the potion for us. Then we grab the locket and leave, simple as."

The other man arched a brow at him and asked, "How exactly do you have such a viable plan already?"

"Hindsight," he deadpanned. "Trust me, if you'd lived through a battle with a bunch of Inferi you'd have gone over it again afterwards, too."

Regulus was silent for a moment and looked at him with a question in his grey eyes. "What happened last time you went to the cave?"

Harry paused for a moment, remembering the ill-fated journey that had ended with the school's most deadly shield between them and Voldemort dying. While he might have had a problem with some of Dumbledore's actions – which was honestly an understatement, especially after the old fart had known he had to die – he would agree that the old man had been a dangerous enemy for Voldemort and a brilliant ally for the school. If he hadn't died it was very likely that Harry would have been at Hogwarts for his seventh year rather than living in a tent in the wilderness.

"Dumbledore dragged me along to the cave – didn't even tell me what the locket was, bastard – made me give him the potion, then he fried the Inferi after I tried to give him water not knowing what was in the lake. Eventually we got back the castle which had the Dark Mark floating above, Snape killed Dumbledore like he'd asked, and there was a battle going on with a bunch of Death Eaters killing people and Greyback mauling random kids. Your shitty little cousin arranged it so they could all sneak into the castle unnoticed."

The other man looked appalled; the idea that so many of his family had done such horrifying things was obviously getting to him.

"Cousin?" he queried.

"Also not born yet. Lucius and Narcissa's son."

Regulus looked faintly nauseous before he steeled himself and stood up, turning to Harry with a determined expression.

"We should get going before my parents get back."

Harry started and almost face-palmed; he'd completely forgotten that this place actually belonged to Orion and Walburga Black at this point in time. He was kind of surprised his presence hadn't been discovered, though; Orion Black was supposed to be connected to the wards of Grimmauld Place, but he supposed with his current state he wouldn't even notice if a bomb was dropped on the house.

_Oh shit._

Harry cleared his throat with a sheepish expression on his face. "About that," he began, studiously ignoring the suspicious expression suddenly gracing the Black scion's face. "Your parents didn't actually marry each other willingly. Walburga's been poisoning him with a compulsion potion for about twenty years, and where I'm from she originally killed him by giving him too much a few months from now."

A beat of silence, then the man lost all his vaunted pure-blood composure.

"What?!"

* * *

Thirty minutes later, with a tear-filled confession from a sobbing Kreacher who'd been ordered into compliance by Walburga Black, the room was home to a sniffling house-elf being comforted by Harry (his years of experience with the more eccentric members of the species coming in handy), and a furious Regulus Black who was writing a quick letter to his grandfather Lord Arcturus Black explaining the situation. If anyone would be able to do something it would be the older Black. Harry tried not to smirk in satisfaction at the idea of retribution for the actions of the despicable hag.

Kreacher popped away with the letter and a sample of the compulsion potion after an overly-enthusiastic bow for 'Master Regulus', and Harry grinned as said man turned to him.

"Well then, are there any more life-altering facts about my family you have to throw at me, or can we leave now?"

Regulus was looking at him with an unamused expression and a raised brow. Clearly the question had been rhetorical but he kind of wanted to mess with the other man. It wasn't often he could fuck around without fear of retribution. At the moment Harry held all the cards and Regulus couldn't get rid of him seeing as his knowledge was much too useful to discard.

Unfortunately they really did need to hurry and get that Horcrux. Voldemort was actually alive and kicking at this time and they still had to get the other soul shards, too. Destroying the other man's composure for fun would have to wait.

"Sadly I don't. I can tell you all the things Sirius told me about your family, but that's about it."

"So you knew Sirius," he said, eyeing Harry from the corner of his eye as they strode through the house towards the ground floor sitting room.

"Not as much as I would have liked. As much as I loved my godfather he really was too hotheaded. On Halloween of nineteen eighty-one old Voldy killed my parents and tried to kill me, except the Killing Curse rebounded and destroyed his body. Of course the Horcruxes were still around and he was revived thirteen years later.

"Anyway, I'm getting off topic. Sirius found my parents' bodies and kind of snapped, I guess. He was going to take me away before Hagrid appeared on the orders of Dumbledore to take me away. I –"

"Wait a minute," Regulus interrupted, "why would Dumbledore send someone for you? And why wouldn't you be given to Sirius? He might be an idiot, but he was still your godfather."

Harry snorted; that was the question, wasn't it? "Long story short, a crazy bat named Sybil Trelawney gave Dumbledore a prophecy which he decided was the ultimate key to destroying Voldemort. It spoke of a boy who'd be born at the end of July, and there were two of us. When Voldemort came after my family Dumbledore took that to mean I was the 'Child of Prophecy'. He had me taken to muggle relatives so I could grow up without becoming spoilt by my 'fame'.

"I didn't learn anything about magic. No pure-blood customs, nothing about being Heir Potter, nothing. And when I got to Hogwarts everyone just assumed that I already knew everything. I'd been seen as some ridiculous hero for 'defeating' Voldemort and surviving the Killing Curse at one, so  _obviously_  I would have grown up knowing everything. As you can imagine I accidentally snubbed nearly everyone without noticing, and I didn't even realise until I was eighteen and Andromeda was more or less beating all the propriety into my head."

"Andromeda? My cousin?" Regulus looked shocked and Harry smirked at him.

"Just because she was disinherited doesn't mean she forgot anything about being a Black. Even as a grandmother in mourning that woman was ferocious," Harry laughed. "Anyway, back to that Halloween. My parents had been hiding under the Fidelius Charm and it was well-known that Sirius Black was their Secret Keeper. When they died, and Peter Pettigrew was known to have died leaving just a finger behind, and Sirius Black was found laughing maniacally surrounded by said finger and the bodies of twelve dead muggles, what do you think happened?"

Regulus looked horrified and he swallowed heavily. "Sirius killed them?" he whispered.

"No."

The other man eyed him confusedly, and Harry rolled his eyes at the expression that mirrored one he'd seen on the man's brother too many times. It was bittersweet, really.

"Sirius decided, in all his infinite wisdom, that he didn't want to put my parents in any more danger than they already were. He decided to be a decoy, letting it leak that he was the Secret Keeper to protect the real Secret Keeper.

"Peter Pettigrew."

Regulus looked a little wary at how he'd all but spat the name viciously and he took a moment to calm down.

"Pettigrew was the real Secret Keeper and he betrayed my parents because he was too scared of Voldemort. He's actually a Death Eater, maybe already. Anyway, Sirius handed me over to Hagrid that night and left to chase down Pettigrew. After he caught up to him Pettigrew screamed to the street that Sirius was the one who'd betrayed my parents, blew up the street killing the muggles, cut off his finger and escaped after turning into a rat. Aurors found Sirius laughing like a madman and mumbling that everything was his fault.

"He'd probably suffered a breakdown but nobody cared. Because 'everyone' knew that Sirius was my parents' Secret Keeper he was thrown in Azkaban without a trial, and people that had been his friends were suddenly saying that of course he'd done something like that, he was a  _Black_.

"Bunch of bloody hypocrites," he snorted bitterly. "They didn't complain when he was an Auror and saving them from being murdered."

"... They threw him in Azkaban without a trial?!"

Regulus looked furious and he could empathise. It was disgusting what the so-called 'just' people of the Ministry had allowed all because they hadn't bothered to use their brains.

"Yeah. He escaped when I was thirteen, but he ended up dying not long before I was sixteen."

The other man looked uneasy but curious about those events, but thankfully kept his questions silent. Something in Harry's voice must have warned him not to ask, which he was very grateful for.

"Are you ready?"

Harry nodded. "Lead the way."

A moment later, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was empty.

* * *

"That was actually pathetically easy. Why the fuck didn't Dumbledore do this instead?"

Regulus wrinkled his nose at Harry's language but answered him anyway. "Probably because it involved an Unforgiveable and death."

"Death. It's a lizard," he replied flatly.

"It's a Moke."

"A Moke is a magical lizard, so it's still a lizard, and a lizard's nowhere near as important as a person no matter how cruel I sound."

Regulus looked at him weirdly. "There's also the case of using the Imperius Curse to make the Moke drink the potion."

Harry waved him off nonchalantly and scoffed, "Oh please! That's nothing compared to using it to break into Gringotts and rob a vault."

The Black whipped his head around and looked at him with horror. "You robbed Gringotts?!"

"How else was I supposed to get the Horcrux from Bellatrix's vault?"

Apparently his nonchalant response didn't inspire much confidence in the other man, and Harry watched as Regulus discretely pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, thoroughly amused at how put out the taller man looked.

"I have access to her vault, so there's no need for that."

"Huh," Harry mused as he plastered an innocent look on his face, "I guess I won't be freeing any dragons any time soon."

The sound of Regulus' groan of consternation was like music to his ears.

* * *

Harry looked down at the burnt floor and the black ashes, the only remains of the locket and cup and tried not to break out in laughter. He didn't think Regulus would be that appreciative of his enthusiasm, and the other man already looked far too concerned about Harry's mental state as it was. Perhaps he should dial back his antics?

…  _Nah._

He quite enjoyed being able to act a bit off without anyone accusing him of having legitimate mental health problems or brand him the next Dark Lord. It was nice to know that people could look at him in this time period and not see The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Was that why he didn't feel all that depressed at being stuck in a entirely different time period? He missed Teddy and Andromeda of course, and he supposed he would miss his friends somewhat, but Andromeda was a fantastic grandmother and Teddy would grow up happy and loved (unlike him), and he honestly hadn't felt that connected to his friends since the war.

Since the forest.

He hated to think about it but it was a recurring question in his mind. Had the Horcrux influenced him? It had been a part of him since he was a year old, after all. Would it really be a stretch to think that a part of someone's soul had affected him? He hated to admit it, but the answer was no. No, it wasn't a stretch, and the longer he went without it the more he wondered about himself.

Ever since waking up from that second run-in with the bright green light he'd been feeling different. Calmer. Tempered. Apathetic. He honestly hadn't cared that much anymore, especially when it came to what other people had thought of him. He hadn't cared when Hermione tried to badger him about returning to school, he hadn't cared when Ron threw a hissy fit about him not joining the Aurors, and he certainly hadn't cared when Ginny tried to entice him back to a relationship he no longer gave two shits about.

The only thing that had gotten him interested had been looking after Teddy and learning what he should have with Andromeda. They'd been his new makeshift family and he really appreciated how the woman hadn't steamrolled over him and actually let him think for himself. He wasn't a child and she hadn't treated him that way. It was vastly different from Molly Weasley's oppressive smothering, that was for sure.

A hiss of pain broke through his musing and he turned to see Regulus gripping his arm where the Dark Mark was before grinning.

He wasn't happy at the other man's pain, rather he was excited that he had the knowledge and the means to help.

"Regulus."

The grey-eyed man looked over at while attempting to maintain a blank expression, though Harry could spot the flashes of pain, well-hidden as they were.

"What is it? You don't want to go and look for the other Horcruxes now, do you? I know we've managed to destroy two in the space of a few hours but it is evening, and you said one's in Malfoy Manor. How we're going to get that I have no idea, but –"

"Regulus!"

His firm voice shut the other man up and he turned to Harry, unconsciously straightening up. Harry softened his posture and carried on.

"One, we're not getting the Horcruxes now, we need to rest first, secondly, I have a plan for the Horcrux in Malfoy Manor, and lastly, I was going to ask if you wanted me to remove the Dark Mark from your arm."

The silver-eyed man looked at him with wide eyes, seemingly torn between hope and resignation. "How could you do that? The Dark Lord's the only one who can remove it."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Firstly, his name's actually Tom – I'll explain later – and secondly, I've already done it in my original time because I'm a Parselmouth."

"A Parselmouth," Regulus said flatly.

"Yep."

"How?"

"Who knows?" Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore always said it was 'cause of the Horcrux, but Andromeda said something like that can only be passed down through the blood, and she was fairly sure that none of the Potters had any connection to Slytherin."

Regulus sighed. "You should probably get an inheritance test at Gringotts."

The time traveller looked at Regulus weirdly. "And say what exactly when it turns out I was originally born next year with James Potter as my father?"

"... I may have a solution to that particular issue."

Harry ignored the cryptic words and rolled his eyes. "Anyway, back to the original point. Do you want me to remove the Dark Mark?"

"What exactly would it entail?" the Black asked suspiciously.

"Me hissing at your arm and excruciating pain for about a minute."

Grey eyes narrowed. "That's it? What about a spell?"

"The hissing's the spell, you just won't be able to understand," Harry explained. "It's essentially just me using my magic to overpower the personality of the snake in the tattoo, forcefully making it answer to me, and banishing it."

"That's it?" Regulus deadpanned.

Harry grinned. "Voldy was kind of arrogant. He thought that there would never be another Parselmouth because he was the only one 'worthy' enough to have the famed ability of Salazar Slytherin. Because of that he didn't even use a proper spell, just imprinted an image of his will on you. I ended up getting rid of a few from the people who'd been forced to get them against their will. I left the others – it was their own bloody fault."

"... Then why are you offering to remove mine? You must know I joined of my own volition," Regulus said quietly.

"Did you? I always thought your parents made you," Harry mused. "Well anyway, you've turned against him at this point, and I have a feeling you'd rather not get arrested."

Regulus narrowed his eyes. "Why are you really helping me?"

"I wasn't lying, you know," Harry smirked before sobering. "Though I'll freely admit I still feel indebted to you for what you did in the future. You turning against Tom helped me when I was hunting down the Horcruxes, so I guess you can consider this a repayment."

The Black furrowed his brows and looked contemplative as he studied his covered arm. Harry supposed it was strange to have the offer to simply get rid of a terrible decision with no apparent costs. Except the pain, of course. Malfoy had certainly seemed to find it agonising, though maybe Regulus would have a higher pain threshold.

"Fine."

Harry raised his head with a questioning look.

"I'd like you to remove the Mark."

"Okay. Like I said, this is going to be extremely painful, and a couple of the people I did this for passed out from the pain. I don't know how good you are with pain, so maybe we should do this somewhere you won't mind passing out if it happens."

Regulus nodded and gestured for Harry to follow him, leading him upstairs in the direction of his bedroom. The room didn't seem to have changed much from what he remembered and he looked around at the Slytherin decorations while Regulus explained everything to Kreacher. The elf would make sure they weren't disturbed and would provide pain potions for Regulus.

Minutes later Harry was questioning how he ended up in such strange situations. He was crouched over Regulus Black while he lay in bed, holding the Black's arm up as he hissed at it to override the stupid bloody snake in the tattoo.

As he spoke he surreptitiously eyed the man on the bed. As seemed to be the standard for the Blacks, Regulus was unfairly attractive with pale smooth skin, wavy silky hair, and striking grey eyes that seemed to pierce through you.

Sirius had also been a very good-looking man, though he was much more masculine than his younger brother. Sirius had a stronger jaw and was broader across the shoulders, even the way he held himself was rougher, though he still retained the inherent grace of the House of Black. Regulus was slimmer with features more androgynous than his brother, much like Harry himself. Harry had never been the tallest or most masculine-looking man, and it was nice to see someone else in the same situation as him.

He hissed for the final time and felt the body below him seize up, pain flashing across his face as he grit his teeth. No sound passed his lips and Harry felt immense respect for the man as he felt the Dark Mark vanish.

Harry looked down at the arm now clear of any mark and noticed Regulus still awake, though breathing heavily and looking exhausted. He leaned over to the bedside table and picked up a pain potion.

"Here, drink this."

Regulus gratefully drank the potion and his features smoothed out as the pain left him. His grey eyes focused on Harry's once more before he drifted off to sleep.

_A nap sounds good right now._

He moved over to the other side of the bed and lay on his side facing Regulus. He could dream at least. His last thought before he fell asleep was to wonder if Regulus' lips were as soft as they looked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people!
> 
> This is where we start to see a little of how Harry's really not as happy - or entirely sane - as others think he should be after the war. I personally call bullshit for the epilogue in canon. There is no way a bunch of children who lived through a war are so happy as to get married to who they were originally with and have perfect lives. (Also, I can see Harry and Ginny having so many issues because of Voldemort that I really don't see them doing so good together. I was always rooting for Luna, but I suppose that's what fanfiction's for.)
> 
> Harry and Regulus' relationship might also be not what others would approve of, but they at least will be aware of how unconventional it is.
> 
> Also, you may notice I haven't gone into detail about the Horcruxes. That's because Voldemort is NOT the focus of this story, Harry and Regulus are. I will also mention this again in case people missed it last chapter. Voldemort will have an underwhelming, pathetic and quick demise. If you want a well-written dramatic and action-packed fight with Voldemort you will be sorely disappointed with this story. I only wrote it because I was bored and had writer's block.
> 
> Sorry about the rants but I just wanted to warn people. This was my bored rambling, nothing more.
> 
> Until next time :D


	3. What does the snake think?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'.

Regulus came back to the world of the living feeling unexpectedly light. For years, practically his entire life, he'd dreaded waking up, always wondering what was going to happen next in their family on that particular day.

Between Walburga's 'training' of her sons, his father's utter apathy to his sons' treatment at the hands of his wife, or his brother's newest antics, the home to the main family of the House of Black was nothing to be envious of. Outsiders thought them to be the perfect family that had everything, but the truth was it was nothing but a gilded cage full of unexpected pitfalls. One wrong step and you fell into a pit of despair and pain.

He was fairly certain that most parents didn't discipline their children using the Cruciatus Curse. He knew that most parents didn't hide their children away from everyone, even other relatives. It was all but truth that parents didn't play their children against one another. He'd hated his parents and thought them to be the cause of all the family's problems.

That didn't mean he forgave Sirius.

His beloved brother, the one he used to idolise and follow around … he was nothing but a bigoted bully. He turned against every Slytherin despite there being some Slytherins who themselves despised Voldemort and the worst of dark magic. For crying out loud, Andromeda had been in Slytherin, yet his brother loved her and persisted on being hypocritical in his actions against the rest of the snakes.

Severus Snape was the primary example of that. The so-called 'Marauders' probably should have been arrested for what they'd done to him at school, yet everyone thought of them as the good guys just because they were in Gryffindor.

Sirius wasn't a good guy. He'd abandoned Regulus.

He'd escaped from their family and left Regulus behind. Like he didn't mean anything to him. Regulus had tried so hard to be a good brother to Sirius and the bastard turned his back on him the first chance he got. He mocked him at school for being a Slytherin and he left him the hands of their parents when he ran away. Regulus had only been fifteen when his brother ran away and Walburga had been particularly vicious that summer.

He would never forgive Sirius for that.

Regulus loved his brother but he also hated him. The dichotomy was tiring and confusing but he couldn't escape it. He loved Sirius; it had been Sirius and Regulus against their parents, two lonely children united in misery. He hated Sirius; the older boy had abandoned him for a brother not of his blood and left him to suffer alone.

His feelings for Sirius would always exist in contradictions.

Regulus breathed in and out as he looked at the ceiling of his room before he became aware of the other body in his bed. He held himself still as he tried to remember the events of the previous day. Taking some random person home and into his bed certainly wasn't something he'd ever done, preferring to be in a serious relationship before that step was taken. He knew full well he wasn't in a relationship right now so he wondered who he was going to have to curse. He turned his head to side and his thoughts halted.

_Harry._

The mysterious – and somewhat mad – time traveller who'd appeared out of nowhere and proceeded to help him against Voldemort. He'd saved him from ending up dead and had asked for nothing in return, even removing his Dark Mark for no other reason than Regulus' actions helping him in the future.

Regulus looked over the sleeping man, taking the opportunity to catalogue his appearance without Harry's crazy words messing him up. The other man was pale like Regulus – his mudblood mother _was_ a redhead – with a head of messy black hair that was like a flashing sign proclaiming which family he was from. Nobody other than the Potters had such hair; he'd have to make sure Harry covered it up or disguised it if they went out. They didn't need _those_ questions yet.

Harry was short for a man, about 5'5'', and he was fairly slim with narrow shoulders and hips. Regulus could spot muscle though, Harry being covered in lithe muscles similar to himself. Perhaps he too was a Seeker? Unfortunately the most captivating part of him was hidden at the moment. His eyes. The vibrant green colour reminded Regulus of the Killing Curse, so much clearer than Evans'. The colour captivated him, the final part to a very enticing package.

Harry Potter was a striking man, more beautiful than handsome, and Regulus was intrigued by him. The time traveller was not only attractive, he had a unique sense of humour and was intelligent in his own way. He might be a little trying on Regulus' patience but the other man was genuinely interesting.

He could easily see the two of them together and he wondered if the other man was attracted to men. It wasn't as if two of the same gender couldn't have children and Regulus was mature enough concerning his own emotions to admit – inwardly, at least – that he was fast becoming possessive of the quirky man. He didn't want anyone else to have Harry, romantically or otherwise.

This was why it was dangerous for a Black to fall for someone. Not only did they fall hard and fast, they were possessive to the extreme and had a tendency to get vindictive and cruel in their attempts to entice their chosen. He could only imagine what would happen if someone else were to display an interest in the time-travelling Potter.

An image of his smirking older brother crowding Harry came unbidden to his mind and he clenched his fingers into a fist.

_Not this time._

Sirius had always gotten what he wanted, time and time again, but this time _he_ would be the one to win. Harry would be his as long as he liked men.

“Regulus?”

The slurred word broke his musing and he looked across the bed to see sleepy green eyes all but glowing in the early morning sun. Harry smiled at him before he let out a massive yawn, sitting up to stretch his arms above his head. He twisted and Regulus grimaced at the cracking sound of Harry's back. That couldn't be comfortable.

Harry turned to him with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

Regulus blinked. “Feeling?”

“The Dark Mark! I got rid of it, remember?”

The Black shot up and wrenched his sleeve back, looking down at his arm.

His _bare_ arm.

The skin was as smooth and pale as the rest of his body, no ugly tattoo in sight. He couldn't see a coiling snake or skull anywhere and he pulled back the sleeve on his other arm to check. Both arms were completely bare of any mark, and he took a moment to run his fingers back and forth over the unmarked skin.

He thought about Harry's question. He _had_ felt unusually light and free when he'd woken up. After seeing Harry he'd thought it had been his subconscious feeling content at Harry's presence. Regulus took stock of his body and felt through his magic.

His magic felt unimpeded for the first time since taking the Dark Mark, and it was frightening that he hadn't even noticed the light drain on his magic until it had been removed. He could no longer feel the malevolent presence of the Dark Lord lingering on his arm and in his body. For the first time in a long time Regulus' body felt like his own.

He was free.

No longer did he have to serve that vile monster who was destroying their society without clear goals in mind, murdering pure-bloods and mudbloods alike if they even slightly disagreed with him. That disgrace was ruining their culture with his extremist actions, making people think that dark magic equated to evil.

He didn't have to do what his mother said.

Wait. His mother. He remembered yesterday's revelations about his parents and wondered if his father was okay. His grandfather was a man who got things done quickly and he had no doubt the formidable man had things in hand. That didn't mean he didn't want to know.

“Kreacher!”

A loud pop accompanied the appearance of the old elf and the loyal creature immediately bowed to him.

“What can Kreacher be doing for Master Regulus?”

“Kreacher, have you heard anything about my father's condition and the situation with my … mother?” He wasn't sure that woman had ever deserved the title of 'mother'.

The elf nodded enthusiastically. “Yes Master Regulus! Kreacher has instructions from Lord Black to tell Master Regulus. Master Orion being treated by family Healer, and Mistress Walburga be staying at Black Manor for now.”

So his father was probably being flushed of potions while Walburga was currently a 'guest' at their ancestral manor. He wondered if his grandfather had trapped the wretched woman in a warded room with no escape. It wouldn't surprise him.

Regulus had no doubt that the woman would be killed for her actions. Two decades of dosing her husband, the Heir Black, wouldn't go down well with the family. She'd probably be kept alive just so his father could enact revenge himself. The man might have been interested in someone else before being poisoned by his cousin and had lost the chance to love someone he chose.

Not that he couldn't get married again if he so chose. Orion Black was only fifty-years-old. That wasn't even middle-aged by magical standards, and far from the age at which he was unable to sire children. Even bearing children himself if he wanted to.

He dismissed Kreacher and turned to him time-travelling companion who had a frown on his face.

“Harry?”

The smaller man looked up. “What's going to happen to Walburga?”

Regulus stopped moving and felt his stomach drop. He'd forgot that Harry was a Potter. Harry was a light wizard with strong morals as was traditional for the House of Potter. Only a scarce few from the Potter family were grey, and never had there been a dark wizard hailing from the Potters. He might have condoned using dark magic the previous day but that was for ridding the world of a Dark Lord. He would more than likely abhor the fact that Walburga Black was going to be murdered in cold blood. Regulus felt resignation creep into him and settle uneasily in his stomach; he might have wanted Harry but he wouldn't force him, though it seemed forcing him would be the only way to get what he wanted. Harry would never willingly join a family of murderers.

The Black took a deep breath. “For her crimes against the House of Black, she will more than likely be killed in short order. Probably by my father when he recovers enough. He was the victim, after all.”

Silence. The bedroom was totally silent and Regulus resisted the urge to squirm in place, waiting for the accusations to start. Harry had been a Gryffindor, was Sirius' godson and had admired him greatly, and probably thought all the Blacks were –

“What a shame.”

The overly sarcastic and bland reply caught him off guard and he started. “What?”

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. “You didn't really expect me to feel bad for the bitch, did you? I mean, she essentially stole two decades of your father's life and practically tortured her children. While I don't exactly want to watch her die right in front of me, the knowledge that she's going to die is satisfying enough.”

“... Potters are light. They've never condoned murder. Well, a few have, but they were –”

“Grey?”

Harry's teasing grin made his stomach squirm pleasurably even as the conversation confused him.

“You're grey?”

“Regulus,” Harry murmured softly, “I told you I used to be a Horcrux. I had a piece of one of the darkest wizards ever trapped inside me for close to seventeen years. It might have been removed but it was still there for a long time. Andromeda tested me and told me it had warped my core from light to dark grey over the years. It would be a little hypocritical to condemn any magic other than light.

“In terms of Walburga, the first time I killed someone was in my first year at Hogwarts. Voldemort had possessed my teacher and I burned him to ashes with my bare hands. I killed another Horcrux in my second year which had also taken on a human form. I killed Voldemort for good in the war.

“The point is I've killed before. It's not something I particularly enjoy in any sense of the word, but it's something I would do again to protect the people I care about. I also don't care about Walburga; Black business is Black business, and to be frank she deserves it.”

Harry finished with a rueful smile and Regulus was struck with how beautiful the other man was. Harry was sat on the bed in rumpled clothes, glasses crooked and a few scars visible in the morning light. The sun streaming in from the windows highlighted his glowing green eyes and played across his hair, revealing a few strands with an auburn tint whenever he moved.

That didn't even touch on Harry's words. The Potter obviously didn't care about the bloodthirsty nature of the House of Black as long as he wasn't forced to join. He didn't condemn them, brand them evil and barbaric, instead he accepted that it was family business. He'd even killed before and accepted that it could happen again.

Regulus _wanted_ him.

It wouldn't do to rush in though. He was a Slytherin and knew how to get what he wanted, and what he wanted was the other man as his partner in every way possible. Life would never be boring with Harry Potter at his side, and if there was one thing Regulus despised it was monotony.

He opened his mouth to question the Potter before a strange gurgling sound echoed in the room. He looked at Harry and noticed an attractive flush painting his face and down his neck. Regulus wanted to find out how far down that flush spread, but forcibly tore his eyes from the teasing glimpse of collarbone and looked the other man in the eye. Or would have if Harry hadn't averted his eyes and was ruffling the hair at the back of his head in an embarrassed fashion. Nervous tick, perhaps?

“Er, sorry about that.”

Even his _voice_ was attractive. He really needed to get a grip before he did something he'd regret. Like snog Harry senselessly like an impulsive Gryffindor.

“It's no problem. Would you care to join me for breakfast?”

The beaming smile he got in return made him feel like a sappy teenage girl. He _really_ needed to get a grip.

* * *

Breakfast had been very pleasant, not only because of the enormous spread made by an overenthusiastic Kreacher. Watching Harry eat had made him feel simultaneously content and like a massive sap. He was a grown man and a son of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, yet he found the sight of Harry licking crumbs from the corner of mouth cute and endearing. His ancestors were probably rolling in their graves.

Though it was certainly problematic; his resolve to take his time had been tested by the teasing sight of that pink tongue darting out of Harry's mouth. More than a few images had come to mind imagining what could be done with that tongue …

He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fantasies playing across his mind. Everything would be for naught if the man wasn't interested in his own gender.

“They look so happy.”

Regulus looked up to see Harry looking at a picture of his grandparents Arcturus and Melania with a young Orion. The three of them indeed looked happy in the picture, his father trying to resist grinning in a manner unbefitting of a Black. His grandparents were obviously in love too, standing close to one another unlike many pure-blood couples. _Hmm, perhaps this could get me some answers._

“They are happy. My grandfather and grandmother have a genuinely loving relationship, though it was rocky to start with. My grandfather was fourteen when my aunt Lucretia was born, the marriage having been arranged at a very young age. Eventually they grew to love each other deeply.”

He turned to Harry. “What about you? Any relationships in your time? A girlfriend or boyfriend?”

Harry blinked big green eyes up at him. “Um, no. I did have a girlfriend for a while, but we split up after the war. I'd spent a year on the run and she was at Hogwarts, and afterwards I just wasn't feeling it anymore. And, um, no boyfriends. Ever.”

“You don't like men?” he questioned, making sure to keep his voice even. _Why am I not surprised things aren't going my way?_

“Er, I mean –” Harry broke off and cleared his throat, averting his eyes with a blush. “I … _do_ like men, it just took me a while to figure things out. Having an insane madman constantly trying to kill you as a teenager doesn't really help when trying to figure out which people you like.

“You don't mind, do you? That I like blokes, I mean.”

The image of a nervous and blushing Harry Potter absentmindedly biting his bottom lip was such a tempting picture, he vaguely wondered if Harry was some sort of punishment he was receiving. The urge to drag the other man to the closest horizontal surface and have his way with him was ridiculously strong. Or vertical surface; if he was being honest with himself he wasn't too bothered about location at this point.

_I am a gentleman. I will not ravish the gorgeous time traveller._

(Maybe if he repeated the words enough they'd sink in? Maybe?)

“Of course not. I would be rather hypocritical if I did, considering I have no preference for gender myself.”

Harry smiled brightly before he cocked his head to the side questioningly, exposing his pale neck. _That would look so much better with teeth marks._ My _teeth marks._

“Are you involved with anyone right now?”

 _Huh?_ Regulus cleared his throat and looked away from the pale skin. “No I'm not.” He looked Harry in the eye, fixing him with an intense stare. Hopefully he'd get the hint. “I'm entirely free.”

Judging from the bright pink blush and wide eyes Harry _did_ get the message.

Though it wouldn't do to rush things; it would be best to give the other man time to come to terms with the idea of them together and let him come to Regulus on his own. What was enjoyable about having someone unwilling? He had never understood the appeal behind forcing someone to be in a relationship. Things were infinitely more satisfying with the knowledge that you'd won someone other through hard work and appeal.

“So what should we do for the next Horcruxes?”

The green-eyed man looked infinitely relieved at the change of conversation and he inwardly smirked. For now he'd give Harry an out, but he wouldn't stay passive forever.

_Harry Black has a nice ring to it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people!
> 
> I thought I'd switch focus and start to introduce Regulus' point of view :) I know a couple of people have asked about other characters of this time period being introduced, but the story is more or less entirely about Regulus and Harry. Sorry about that :(
> 
> Let me know what you think :D


	4. Legality? What's that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'

"Right. So. The Horcruxes. There are three left right now, Malfoy Manor, Hogwarts, and the Gaunt shack."

Harry desperately tried to stop his embarrassing rambling and act like a normal human being rather than a crazy person. (Which he might have been, but that was really beside the point. Perhaps he should stop having conversations with himself in his head?)

He was sure that Regulus wasn't really flirting with him, his brain was just making the other man's words sound like something they weren't. Regulus was a stupidly gorgeous man and a pure-blood who could easily get anyone he wanted, so what would he want with someone like Harry? Slightly off, a time traveller with no family name at this point in time, and a half-blood?

… Apparently the best way to calm yourself down was to remind yourself of your non-existent self-esteem.  _Great, now I feel like shit._

"Anyway," he said while clearing his throat, "I think we should split up and each go after one Horcrux each before meeting up for the last one."

Regulus frowned but didn't question his visible mood drop. "That sounds like the most efficient plan. Which ones should we go after separately, though?"

"I can get the one from Malfoy Manor, so you can decide between the other two. They each have their own issues, though. The diadem's in a hidden room in Hogwarts about the size of the Great Hall. It's completely full of random objects, so it'll take time to scour through everything to find it.

"On the other hand, the ring in the Gaunt shack is covered by any number of protections that I don't know of. I do know that the ring itself had some sort of compulsion spell on it that made whoever found it want to wear it. Which  _really_  isn't a good idea seeing as it has a curse on it that rots the flesh and kills you. Dumbledore ended up putting the bloody thing on and only survived for a year because Snape contained the curse in his hand. Even if Snape hadn't killed him he would have died within the year."

"How lovely," Regulus replied dryly.

The other man sat back with his arms crossed, looking to be in deep thought. Personally, Harry thought that Regulus should go for the diadem; it wasn't covered in horrid spells designed to kill him in a disgustingly painful manner, and the only issue would be how long it would take.

"I'll go for the ring."

_Of course you will._

Harry resisted the urge to swear, instead asking Regulus, "Will you be okay with the compulsion? It's not that I doubt your abilities, I mean you could probably wipe the floor with me you wanted, it's just pretty dangerous. Will you be able to resist the compulsions?"

"My, my, Mister Potter," Regulus smirked, "it almost sounds as if you're worried about me. What, would you miss me if something were to happen?"

_That smile should be illegal, and damn it why am I so pale?_

"I literally just stopped you from being eaten by Inferi, of course I don't want you dead ... Besides, you're fun to be around."

He tried not to fidget and mentally urged his blush to fuck off, but apparently he had no such luck if Regulus' smug grin was anything to go by.

_He. Is. Not. Flirting. Get over yourself, Potter._

"Why, thank you," he drawled playfully. "Nevertheless, I am a Black, and we have our own ways of avoiding darker compulsion spells. If it comes down to it, I'll just burn down the entire shack."

"I'd still feel better if you didn't go there by yourself," Harry grumbled.

Regulus raised an elegant brow. "Would it make you feel any better if I took Kreacher with me?"

"As a matter of fact, it would."

The Black just huffed and rolled his eyes, which was strangely hilarious on the other man. He hadn't seen Regulus Black act so informal and it was an intriguing sight. Almost like seeing an animal start acting like a different animal. (Not that he'd ever say that to his face; he had no desire to become intimately familiar with Regulus' extensive knowledge of hexes and curses.)

It was a strange situation no matter how he thought about it. He was trapped in the past, sitting in the house of one of the darkest families of magical Britain, and was sat opposite one of the most captivating men ever. 'Sinful' might be an appropriate word for Regulus Black; he wasn't shy about being a dark wizard and the fact that his mother was about to be murdered, and Harry knew full well his friends would be horrified at Harry wilfully working with the man.

He was like the biblical story of the apple: Harry knew it was wrong, but he really wanted to take a bite.

… Which brought up all the wrong images that he'd been trying to suppress ever since he'd laid eyes on Regulus Black.

As he'd told Regulus, it'd taken Harry a bit of time to figure out his preferences in terms of relationships. He could now quite happily say he was pansexual (as Luna had informed him it was called after a long and involved discussion) and he really didn't discriminate by gender or sex. Just personality.

Which was why he and Ginny had stayed apart after the war. She hadn't dealt with all the crap he had for seven years straight (which didn't even get into his crappy childhood) and hadn't understood his apathy towards a serious relationship so soon after all the fighting. She'd wanted to marry and pop out kids as soon as possible, but honestly the time apart had showed Harry that she was kind of clingy and too hot-headed for Harry.

It wasn't necessarily the idea of marriage and kids that turned him off, but it was the idea that he was supposed be a 'proper' man and get a Ministry job and provide for his wife and kids. Apparently his own desire to take some time for himself before finding a job and look after any possible children instead of their mother was irrelevant, and he should do everything that Ginny wanted just because.

_How about no._

To be honest Ginny had turned him off women for the most part. He was still attracted to women but he wouldn't be going anywhere near a woman like Ginevra Weasley any time soon. Women like Luna were more his thing; open-minded, funny, and smart. And calm. Calm was key.

Of course that didn't really cover physical attraction, and once he'd opened himself up to the reality that was his attraction to men he'd started to realise there had been  _loads_  of men he'd been looking at through his teen years, some appropriate and some wildly  _in_ appropriate.

Bill, Charlie, Cedric, Oliver, Roger Davies, Adrian Pucey, Viktor, Sirius …

He wondered what it said about him that every single one had been a Quidditch player at one point or another.

And now his eyes wandering over Regulus had seemingly added another Quidditch player to the long list of men he'd ogled lustfully. Not that anything would be happening from said ogling. They were partners for destroying Voldemort and ridding the world of his madness, nothing more, nothing less. Once he was gone he'd find some way to live a life here. Somehow.

"Well," Regulus said, grabbing Harry's attention, "no time like the present."

He stood up and Harry joined him.

Time to break the law again.

* * *

Little Hangleton was a rather quaint village for having been the scene of three murders that had ended in the creation of a Horcrux, Regulus mused.

It was incredibly ironic that the Dark Lord – Tom Riddle – had done something so moronic as to murder his relatives in such a high-profile manner. He'd killed his paternal relatives and spelled his maternal uncle into confessing for the crime.

The man didn't want anyone knowing about his origins yet he had done so many things to drop hints about his true heritage. Aside from the stupid murders that he hadn't bothered to cover up, he hadn't changed his name and started over, or even hidden the Horcruxes in locations unrelated him.

He'd been so arrogant to assume that nobody knew anything about him. Even though Regulus didn't like him, Albus Dumbledore was a formidable wizard and had been a professor of Riddle's. Did he really think the man wouldn't be able to figure out anything from his life? According to Harry, Dumbledore had been the one to bring Riddle his Hogwarts letter so clearly Dumbledore was aware of who Voldemort truly was. Riddle had to have known his secrets weren't truly hidden, so why had he not been smarter in his actions?

Though it could have been a fervent belief that the Headmaster wasn't determined enough to go after him and end things. From some of the things Harry had let slip, Albus Dumbledore was someone who much preferred to play the puppet-master rather than take definitive action.

Regulus scowled at the idea; Harry might not have recognised the man's actions for what they were, but to Regulus they were nothing but grooming. He'd groomed Harry to be a perfect little self-sacrificing soldier and the Potter had done his job perfectly.

He'd bet that Harry's survival hadn't been part of the plan.

The man still hadn't told him how the Horcrux in him had been destroyed, but the vile things were only destroyed after the receptacle was destroyed beyond repair.

Which meant Harry had died.

He had a feeling Harry had done it willingly, too. It was a good thing he'd graduated already; he didn't know if he'd have been able to sit in the school and look at the manipulative bastard without doing something that would have gotten him arrested.

Regulus wandered down the pathway to the Gaunt home and found the shack hidden amongst a plethora of tree trunks crowding the dilapidated building, blocking it from the sun. Moss covered the walls, nettles grew up the sides of the building, and more than a few roof tiles had come loose and fallen off over the years. The small windows were also covered in a thick layer of dirt, and Regulus wrinkled his nose at the mess. It was strange to think his home would have become somewhat similar in the future because of a mad Walburga, though considering her personality perhaps it really wasn't that strange.

He pulled out his wand and tested the outside of the shack. There were a few wards up that would be fairly difficult to destroy – if he weren't a Black, that is. His family had always been dangerous, and he supposed that at least one part of his mother's 'education' would prove to be useful.

Waving his wand, he walked around the property chanting under his breath, pushing more and more magic into the spell. After a few minutes all the external wards were down and he breathed deeply as he lowered his wand.

"Kreacher."

His faithful elf popped into existence next to him and bowed. "What can Kreacher be doing to help Master Regulus?"

"Kreacher, there's something in this shack that I need to destroy. It's similar to the locket, but I've been told it has a spell on it that will make me want to wear it. If you see me trying to put the ring on you need to stop me, even if that means throwing me against the wall. Do you understand?"

The elf looked torn at the idea of hurting him but he eventually gave a begrudging nod. "Yes, Master Regulus."

He braced himself and strode in the shack deliberately, taking care not to touch the door or walls. Who knew what traps were littered about? Once inside he scanned the building, finding a single cluster of protective spells focused under the floorboards in the kitchen.

Trying to levitate the floorboards proved ineffectual and he was loathe to use something as blunt as a blasting spell. After a moment he remembered the lack of protections against non-human magic in the cave and he turned to Kreacher.

"Kreacher, can you move these floorboards for me?"

The elf clicked his fingers and the planks of wood slowly raised into the air and moved to the side, revealing a hole in the floor filled with a box. Kreacher thankfully got the box out and opened it slowly, giving Regulus time to brace himself for the spells Harry told him about.

Once the lid was removed Regulus was very grateful for his extensive Occlumency training; if he hadn't been prepared he probably would have been dead now. He could feel some sort of force emanating from the ring, trying to entice him, telling him to wear the ring.

He could keep standing there and let the vile thing wear down his defences or destroy it.

A quick flick of his wand and the shack was filled with a small but powerful ball of fire focused on the box, disintegrating the contents into nothingness. He smiled grimly at the sound of the wailing scream emanating from the flames, watching as the black mist rose from the fire and dissipated into the air.

All at once the attack on his mind ceased and he slowly pulled back the cursed fire until the shack was empty of flames once more. The silence seemed deafening and he smirked with satisfaction.

_Another one down._

With the one Harry was destroying now there were two Horcruxes left, and then they could kill the monster once and for all.

After sweeping his eyes around the shack once more, he turned on the spot and Disapparated.

* * *

Harry really hadn't been lying when he'd told Regulus he didn't give a crap about dark magic. Having had a Horcrux in him for over a decade and a half, not to mention having fought in a war, his perception on what was acceptable in terms of magic had certainly evolved and warped from when he'd been a wide-eyed eleven-year-old who thought all Slytherins were evil.

He knew that he was more willing to carry out actions that would earn him a one-way ticket to Azkaban than he had been before, and the idea that he was casually doing something so illegal in broad daylight simply didn't faze him one bit. Apathetic, blasé, indifferent … take your pick of synonyms, because they were all appropriate for Harry's current attitude.

Legality was the least of his concerns when it came to Voldemort.

Perhaps it was worrying that he was so much more concerned about fixing this time's problems instead of trying to find a way back to his own time, but this was a situation that he had a plan for. Where he was from he'd been floundering on a daily basis; he might have been staying with Andromeda half the time but he hadn't really had a purpose. For years he'd grown up having the idea of fighting Voldemort being shoved down his throat and when the wanker had finally bit the dust Harry had been left with no purpose.

Fighting against Voldemort was truly the only thing he'd ever known. He might have been good at Defence and had muttered about being an Auror, but he'd never really known what to do with his life. The primary thought in his mind had been being killed by Voldemort, and in comparison to that how important was a fifth-year careers meeting?

Ending up in the past had dumped him in a time when Voldy was alive and everything he'd ever learnt about the bastard had somehow become useful again. Was it his 'saving people' thing? Or was it just that he wanted to seem useful again?

… The more he thought about it the more he realised Dumbledore had really fucked him up.

Well, the old fart had gotten what he wanted in the end. A dutiful little pawn that cheerfully went and martyred himself and saved the day.

As much as he didn't want to leave everyone to suffer the insanity that was Voldemort he had no desire to get fully embroiled in the mess of a war. He was tired damn it, and he honestly wanted to have a quiet life and a family to look after.

He'd had Teddy but the baby hadn't really been his. He could admit in his darkest moments he'd considered leaving and trying to get pregnant via a one night stand so he could have someone of his own to care for. The only problem with that was how bastards were treated in the magical world, not to mention his own issues from the war. He could at least hope for a simple family in the future.

And it was this wish for a simple life that made it more logical – to Harry – to do things completely illegally when it came to getting the diary from Lucius Malfoy. He honestly wanted to get things over and done with as quickly as possible, so his plans were made based on ease rather than what was 'good'. He could have disguised himself and tried to sneak into Malfoy Manor, or tried to break in unnoticed, or many other covert plans that weren't so illegal.

Instead he decided to Imperius Lucius Malfoy with the Elder Wand.

Said wand was essentially unbeatable, and when using this certain Unforgivable it became something not even Albus Dumbledore would have been able to resist. Harry knew well that casually using one of the three worst spells in existence probably said something not so great about his mental state but it was the most viable plan he had.

Running into Lucius in Knockturn Alley had been a bonus as nobody even cared if someone ended up the victim of stray spells in the disreputable area. Even if he had been seen nobody would have batted an eye, even if his victim was Heir Malfoy – everyone knew if you walked into Knockturn Alley you could be in danger, and it was your own fault if you didn't pay attention enough to look after yourself.

Harry had surreptitiously drawn the most powerful wand in existence and jabbed it at Lucius Malfoy's back, quietly telling the man to follow all his instructions perfectly and silently before Apparating with the man to just outside the Shrieking Shack. (It had been the first deserted place that had sprung to Harry's mind.)

From there Harry had questioned the blonde man to ensure his manor was empty, and instructed him to Apparate home and bring him the diary without anyone seeing it, even his house-elves and portraits.

Now he was stood outside the 'haunted' building with a Horcrux in his arms and a dazed peacock in front of him. He had so much potential for revenge …

"Well done, Malfoy. Now, I want you to take this," he said, pulling out a transfigured replica of Riddle's diary, "back to Malfoy Manor with you and put it back in the same exact spot where the original diary was. Then I want you to forget everything that happened with the diary today and go and take a nap. If anyone asks, you went shopping in Knockturn Alley, browsed the stores for a while then went home to take a nap."

Harry looked at the Malfoy and remembered hearing about the man only wanting one child because it was easier to have just one heir.  _Oh well._

"Also, if your wife ever asks for more children you will oblige her. You wish to make the Malfoy family stronger by having as many children as your wife wants."

Narcissa  _had_  saved his life after all, and it wasn't her fault her husband was a tosser who hadn't wanted to bother with more than one child.

"You will also not spoil your children, instead ensuring they understand how their actions have consequences. They will also need to understand not to insult people in public. It is not proper to call someone a mudblood."

Maybe he was laying it on too thick, but Draco Malfoy really did need a kick up the arse.

Harry went to lower his wand before he smirked, remembering a theory that Andromeda had had about muggle-borns and their heritage.  _This is going to be hilarious._

"You will also begin setting up a research project, paying for muggle-borns to take inheritance tests at Gringotts. You will test fifty muggle-borns with their permission before taking your findings to the Wizengamot. If it is proven that muggle-borns are descended from half-bloods in the muggle world or Squibs, you will put forth a bill to advocate for the testing of all muggle-borns in order to help them reconnect with their families. You will also mention how none of this would be happening if pure-bloods hadn't thrown Squibs out their own families."

"Yes," came the dazed reply.

"Finally, you will forget every single thing you know about me. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now go home and sleep."

The blonde man gave a mechanical nod before Disapparating with a sharp crack, leaving behind a Harry Potter cackling at his antics. Lucius Malfoy was going to piss off a lot of people with that project. At least Harry wouldn't be caught, having made sure to wear a glamour beforehand.

He turned to the shack and made his way inside, looking around at the scratches and mess from Moony. Harry felt a twinge at Remus not knowing who he was before he shook off the thought, pulling out the cursed diary and dropping it on the floor.

He raised his wand, and a moment later the ruined room was filled with an intense heat from the cursed fire devouring the book. Harry was more focused on the screaming black mist rising from the flames, and he grinned a little maniacally as the scream cut off abruptly.

One left to go.

Harry pulled back the flames and checked his watch. He was supposed to be meeting Regulus in Diagon Alley right about now.

"Well then."

He put his wand away, and with a loud crack the Shrieking Shack was empty once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again :)
> 
> This chapter is something of a miracle, as a few days ago I managed to lose every single piece of fanfiction on my computer. Which was about 350,000 words in total. As you can imagine I had a bit of a breakdown. Luckily I managed to recover everything, but that initial panic was horrifying lol But I now have everything in 3 different locations lol I never want to go through that again.
> 
> I know a few people have been asking about other characters from this era like the Marauders appearing, but this story is primarily just Regulus and Harry. It's not about Harry being the stereotypical hero and fixing things and mending broken relationships. I wrote this out of boredom, and I quite like the idea of Harry growing a backbone and being a bit selfish for once.
> 
> Let me know what you think :D
> 
> Until next time!


	5. Of course I can communicate as an adult

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'

“So the last one is in Hogwarts?”

“Yup. In a hidden room on the seventh floor.”

Regulus' face twisted. “Why on earth would he think hiding something of such importance to him in a school filled with teenagers, not to mention _Albus Dumbledore_ , would be a good idea?”

“Because he was arrogant,” Harry explained. “He thought that he was the only one who'd ever discovered that room, and that it would be entirely safe there.”

“But when did he get the chance to put it there?” the Black questioned with a frown.

Harry chewed his food thoughtfully, thinking over his mental timeline of Tom's madness. He swallowed and looked at Regulus. “About nine or ten years ago if I'm right. He went to Hogwarts to apply for the Defence position. When he was turned down he cursed the role instead, which is why there hasn't been a Defence Professor for longer than a year since.

“He probably hid the thing at the same time as some sort of revenge against Dumbledore. Like it was funny that something the old man would want to destroy was hiding under his nose the entire time.”

Grey eyes stared at him looking both weary and disappointed. “He honestly sounds so petty.”

“That's because he is.”

Regulus looked up at him, an uneasy expression playing across his face. “I know you said you have no issue with how dark the Blacks are, and while it's true I joined the Death Eaters at my parent's urging I wasn't entirely reluctant to do so. Why are you so … accepting of the fact that I joined the man who murdered your parents?”

Harry took a moment to consider the other man's words. It was true; Regulus had joined up by himself and Tom had murdered his parents. The two situations weren't exactly simple and his feelings concerning them were probably a little warped. Well, warped for the Harry Potter of his own time, anyway.

“Let's address the second part of that first. Say I were to tell you a story of a heroic couple, two people who loved each other immensely, and then I told you that that same couple was related to you. Now, you don't know this couple. You don't who they were as people, what they did for a living, hell, you don't even know their names or what they looked like. Then if I were to tell you that they'd given their lives to save you, tell me, what would you feel? Would you feel indebted to them? Connected to them in some way? Would you see them as your family, people that you love? Or would they just so happen to be two individuals who shared blood with you? A couple of strangers that had died to save you, but strangers nonetheless.”

The Potter noted Regulus' grimace and shot him a wry smile. “My parents died when I was one, Regulus. I didn't know them, and my aunt hated them and anything to do with magic so she never told me anything growing up. I might respect them for their sacrifices, and of course it's sad that I never got to know them, but that's the point, I _never_ knew them.

“To me, James and Lily Potter have always been strangers, and it's hard to feel so bad when their deaths didn't really impact me personally at the time. I only learnt of their murder ten years after the fact, by which point I'd grown up thinking they were drunks who died in a car crash.”

He paused to take a sip of water before continuing. “Of course I despise Tom for taking away my chance at a happy life, but I've technically killed him like three times now. I've had my revenge more than once. You might have joined my parents' murderer but you didn't participate in their deaths in any way, shape or form. Nothing about that disaster has anything to do with you.

“Now Pettigrew on the other hand, he's going to suffer if I have my way. The cowardly little rat pisses me off, and in some ways I blame him more than Tom. Tom might have been the one to kill them, but Pettigrew was the one who offered up their location on a silver platter. Between him and Snape, they actually piss me off way more than Tom.”

Regulus shifted. “Okay. That makes a startling amount of sense, but that doesn't explain why you seem so blasé about me joining.”

Harry cocked his head to the side. “Well, why did you join? What was your reason?”

“... Because I thought that he was going to help our world. Bring back our traditions, make dark magic equal to light once more, things like that.”

“They sound like very good goals, actually.”

The grey-eyed man looked at him with a disbelieving expression on his face which Harry smirked at.

“You know, as long as you don't just indiscriminately kill anyone who pisses you off.”

Regulus rolled his eyes though the twitch in his lips was a promising sign. He certainly looked calmer now he knew Harry wasn't going to suddenly go against him or something. Which he wouldn't anyway, having no desire to take on any Black at all.

“Have you ever considered using the school Board?”

The Black raised a brow. “Board?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, “the Board of Governors. If you could make it so that children are taught about things at a young age from the start of school then they'd be less likely to grow up with such prejudices. That way everyone would start thinking of things like dark magic in a more thoughtful manner rather than just dismissing it. Like having compulsory classes on the magical world for muggle-raised kids and vice versa. The muggle world is actually getting pretty sharp in how they record everything, it's only a matter of time 'till someone accidentally breaks the Statute of Secrecy so badly the entire world finds out about magic.

“You know, it's a shame there isn't a school for kids younger than Hogwarts age. I mean, there's quite a bit you could cover without actually using magic. Theory, History, simple plants, potion preparation, things like learning how to use a quill, even basic etiquette and whatnot. Think about it, how much easier it would be to integrate everyone if they grew up together in a school, muggle-borns and pure-bloods alike. Even the stuffier pure-bloods would probably go for it if you worded it like making connections with other families from a young age.”

He finished his rambling and looked at his companion, curious about that weird facial expression; Regulus' face looked to some strange combination of consternation and awe, and Harry really wasn't sure why. Were his words that weird?

“Regulus? Did I say something wrong?”

“... No. You didn't.”

 _Okay, that was weird_. The weariness was back and the other man looked to be resisting the urge to slam his face into the table. _At least he's finished his food._

Instead the man took a deep breath and met his eyes. “Are you ready to leave?”

Harry grinned at him. “Yeah. I kind of want some Honeydukes chocolate.”

The perplexed look was thoroughly amusing.

* * *

Regulus wondered about the smaller man next to him, remembering some saying or whatnot about genius and insanity going hand-in-hand with one another.

It was certainly an appropriate description for his time-travelling companion, the shorter man more than likely having one too many issues going on in his psyche while also possessing a rare combination of real-life intelligence and knowledge of how to apply it. His absent-minded musings on using the school system to better their world was so simple it was genius, and if he hadn't been holding himself back for propriety's sake he would have kissed the other man regardless of their location.

The Potter was someone who'd grown up unaware of magic and so knew the pitfalls of trying to navigate their world without adequate knowledge, but he had also been educated properly by someone born into the House of Black after reaching his majority.

He was in a unique position to look back on his life and see where certain changes could be made for children in order to educate them properly. He had plenty of ideas on how to implement such changes so they would be most effective, and also had sneaky suggestions for convincing even the most traditional of families to consider the benefits.

There was no doubt that Harry Potter had a fascinating mind, though Regulus briefly mourned the fact that Harry would likely never indulge in politics. The man had fervently announced his distaste for such a career, likely because of his unfortunate life experiences. It was still a shame, as the man could probably ensure a great many ideas were spread through their society.

Though perhaps it was a good thing Harry would stay away from politics. Their earlier conversation concerning the diary had led to Harry dropping hints about Lucius Malfoy earning enemies and he simply knew that Harry had managed to compel the man into getting the diary. That, and somehow compel him into doing things he normally wouldn't. Harry's face had looked simultaneously naughty and guilty, and he realised the green-eyed man would more than likely rile people up on purpose if he went into politics. He did it enough to Regulus, after all.

Harry was someone who seemed to delight in acting unexpectedly, making others lose their bearing when interacting with him. Apparently the fact that Regulus didn't react negatively to such behaviour endeared him to Harry all the more for some reason. Though the brief mentions of Harry's supposed 'fame' were more than enough to discern that others had constantly judged him on anything and everything he'd done. Anyone would be sick of such treatment.

Regulus had a feeling that the other man had seen fit to limit himself intellectually in order to not draw as much attention to himself because of others' preconceived notions concerning his behaviour. This time period however was free from any expectations and allowed him a freedom not previously embraced. Said freedom had granted him the ability to act as crazy and intelligent as he wanted, regardless of what others thought.

Which was why he'd cheerfully led Regulus to sneak into Honeydukes in order to sneak into Hogwarts.

The other man had looked far too cheerful at the prospect of casually breaking the law, though he could admit that the carefree grin on his face had been rather beautiful. He'd looked unburdened, happy … free.

It was exhilarating to know that he was partly a reason for the look on Harry's face. His family had never been so obviously appreciative of him in any way, though of course he'd impressed them merely by not acting out like his crass brother. (Which when you think about it, really wasn't all that difficult to do.)

To the Black family, Regulus had simply always been what was expected for a member of their House; he was intelligent, collected, he conformed to propriety, and he perpetuated the common assumption that the House of Black was superior to others in every way possible. His behaviour had never been unexpected so he'd never been seen as somebody exceptional to his family or anyone else.

Except for now. Harry Potter looked at him as if he was something special, some _body_ special, and Regulus was quickly becoming addicted to the way those verdant orbs settled on him. Harry might have been rather cunning for a former Gryffindor but he still wasn't well-versed in keeping his emotions from his face, hence why the Black knew full well that Harry genuinely enjoyed his company.

It was a strange experience to have someone look at him as a person rather than a scion of the House of Black. The smaller man didn't care one bit which family Regulus was from and treated him as his own person, teasing him and helping him of his own accord. Harry wasn't concerned with building ties with the Blacks, instead he spent as much time as possible with Regulus for no other reason than enjoyment of his company. Even after they'd made arrangements for disposing of the soul shards they'd been in each other's company, wasting time doing nothing in particular.

To have such an intriguing man so focused on him admittedly made him feel rather smug, and he couldn't help but imagine their interactions once Tom Riddle had been removed from this world. Though the Black was also aware of the fact that Harry definitely needed a new identity in order to live here properly. They'd already gone over his accidental time travel, including a quick perusal of the attic which had strangely revealed no suspicious trunk like Harry had seen, and deduced that there was more than likely no way back to his own time, meaning the green-eyed man needed to find some way to live in this time. As Regulus had previously mentioned he did have an idea concerning that particular issue and he was trying to think of how to broach the topic with Harry.

It would have been easier to concentrate if he hadn't been all but pressed up against the smaller man in a tight passageway, having Harry's lithe muscles plastered to his side in some form of delightful torture.

_Think disgusting thoughts. Think disgusting thoughts …_

Apparently his repeating mantra wasn't doing much to calm his over-excited body and he took a moment to fervently pray the other man wouldn't notice anything.

“Okay, once we're out we can use my Invisibility Cloak to sneak to the seventh floor. We'll have to stick pretty close together, though.”

_Please just kill me now._

* * *

“I dread to think of how long that would have taken if I'd had to search this blasted room alone.”

Harry snorted. “I can imagine. Luckily I already knew where it was when I had to destroy it properly last time around, though I felt like a right prat when I realised I'd actually already found the thing over a year beforehand but didn't know what it was.”

“What?” Regulus asked with a small smile playing across his lips. _Bastard_.

“I originally used this room to hide something and I put it right about here, using the diadem to mark its place. I thought it was just some old ugly tiara, not Rowena-bloody-Ravenclaw's lost diadem and a Horcrux to boot,” he grumbled, still feeling chagrined at the situation it being resolved now.

“Well,” Regulus smirked, “at least that won't be a problem anymore. Now we just have to get rid of the Dark Lord and everything will be over.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Pretty much. I do kind of want to round up the worst of the Death Eaters before they do something crazy. I mean, if they realise Tom's gone they might snap and do something really shitty, which considering some of the things they did is saying something.”

“Did … did Bellatrix do something horrible?”

The Potter grimaced, feeling awful he was telling someone that a member of their own family was insane beyond normal for a dark family. “Yeah, she did. She was originally sent to Azkaban after torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity using the Cruciatus Curse. I'm not sure, but I heard a rumour that she even tried to use it on their son who was one at the time. It was her, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, and Barty Crouch Jr. all together.”

The taller man closed his eyes with a pained expression on his face and Harry felt a twinge in his chest at the sight. It was strange how much he already cared about a man he'd only known for a day and a bit, but to be honest falling for someone so quickly wasn't nearly as weird as falling two decades through time.

He didn't want Regulus to be in pain. The man in front of him had made some shitty decisions but had also made the decision to deliberately turn against an insane madman who killed anyone who disagreed with him. Regulus wasn't perfect but he was a genuine person, flaws and all. He didn't deserve to have such crazy relatives.

“I'm sorry.”

Regulus opened his eyes to look down at Harry, molten silver piercing through him and making his heart rate pick up. The other man was looking at him strangely and he realised it was because of their proximity. Without even realising he'd moved closer and held on to Regulus' arm in an attempt to comfort him. Said actions had put him uncomfortably and thrillingly close to the Black, and he thought he could see flickers of desire in the grey orbs.

Harry blushed, lowering his eyes and backing away from the other man. He pulled the hand from Regulus' arm up to rub against the back of neck, clearing his throat as he did. “Sorry about that, I – sorry.”

“... There's nothing to apologise for.”

He peeked up to see Regulus standing stiffly and looking determinedly at the ashes of the former diadem. Harry felt his heart sink at the image; it seemed his interest would indeed remain unrequited. Not that he'd expected otherwise. His previous attempts at romance had all been disasters from start to finish, and there was nothing to suggest this time would be any different. Of course the aristocratic man hadn't been flirting with him, what had he been thinking?

“Er, right. Well, I mean, we're done in terms of the Horcruxes now, so there's nothing left to do here. Unless you want to look around? The room's full of abandoned stuff, but there might be some things lying about that you might find interesting. If you want?”

At the sight of the controlled nod Harry pasted a bland smile on his face and turned around, strolling down an aisle of the room to find something to distract himself with.

He didn't want to be there anymore.

* * *

Regulus frowned as his companion directed the least genuine smile he'd ever seen at him before leaving without a single word. He didn't know what was wrong with Harry; the other man had looked interested in him just moments ago before his mood plummeted all of a sudden.

He sighed and set off in the opposite direction to Harry. It would probably be the best idea to give the green-eyed man some space at the moment even if he hadn't the slightest idea of the issue. Harry was certainly a complex individual and Regulus couldn't hope to comprehend all the intricacies of the time traveller after a mere day.

The Black paused at that. A day. He'd only know Harry for a single day and already cared for him immensely, looked forward to his company, desired him specifically … He'd always thought his relatives that had gotten married after a short few weeks together had been beyond mad, but perhaps they'd simply fallen very hard and very fast. Like he was in the process of doing.

His interest in Harry wasn't some passing fancy, he could tell it would be a lasting emotion. He just needed a way to convey that to the smaller man. Otherwise he'd think Regulus was only teasing him and that was the furthest thing from the truth. Harry already seemed to have no self-preservation or self-esteem and he had no desire to add to that.

 _Wait. Self-esteem._ Regulus went back over that moment when he'd realised Harry was mere inches away from him. He'd forced himself to look away from the tempting sight of Harry's enticing flush and instead had glared at the diadem ashes to try and calm his body down. Had Harry seen his glare? Had he thought it was directed at him? Because of his actions?

Regulus groaned and wanted to smack himself. Harry probably thought that Regulus was upset at him and didn't like him romantically. Perhaps his decision to allow Harry to dictate the pace of things had backfired somewhat. He would have to rectify that. And fast.

He would have to make sure that there was no confusion concerning his intentions. His actions would have to be a little more forward than he was used to, but if they succeeded in getting Harry to be his he wouldn't complain.

The man looked at a nearby bookshelf and smirked to himself. That might help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I know some people are probably weirded out by them getting so close so quickly, but 1. it's fanfiction, and I've seen seen some weird shit over the years lol, and 2. I feel like hunting down a Dark Lord together is something that gives each of the characters a pretty good insight into the other's mind. Or maybe I'm just mad, who knows?
> 
> Let me know what you think. Until next time!


	6. Plan 'I' for 'Insane'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'
> 
> Beware, this is where the warning at the beginning comes into play. Voldemort isn't going to be some ridiculously difficult person to get rid of, and the way things play out in this chapter and the next will probably annoy more than a few people. It is stupid, somewhat petty depending on your perspective, and pretty out of left field. I've warned people this was coming so I'd really appreciate it if I didn't get hate in the comments. If you didn't read the warning at the beginning and believe me that's your fault. This fic was written out of pure boredom.
> 
> Sorry about the mini rant. Enjoy!

“Please tell me you're joking.”

The voice directed at him was simultaneously flat and disbelieving, and Harry had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing hysterically at the put-out look on the other man's face. Regulus looked thoroughly bewildered at the conversation, but also had a resigned air about him that had become something of a staple in his conversations with Harry.

They'd gone back to Grimmauld Place after pilfering anything they wanted from the Room of Requirement and had retreated to try and decide on a plan of action for getting rid of Tom for good. Of course, they'd then realised that they had no idea where the monster actually was. Regulus knew that the man had a tendency to move around his followers' manors, staying at wherever he felt comfortable at any given time. They would have to figure where Tom was and act quickly before he moved somewhere else.

That realisation had led to the knowledge that Harry would have to divulge even more of his closely-held secrets to his companion. He'd suggested that they could Imperius Bellatrix into telling them all her secrets, including Tom's location. Unfortunately Regulus had informed him of the extensive 'training' the Blacks received growing up, including learning how to fully resist the Imperius Curse. He wouldn't believe that Harry could successfully Imperius his cousin without knowing exactly why.

Which had meant telling Regulus about the Elder Wand.

A quick mental debate with himself later, Harry had shrugged nonchalantly and explained about having the infamous Deathly Hallows and being the so-called 'Master of Death'. (Honestly, Harry wasn't even sure what the title entailed. He felt exactly the same as he had before having the bloody things, so perhaps it just meant the Hallows' power answering solely to him? He'd asked Andromeda to use the wand a little and she'd told him she could do so, but could feel that its allegiance always stayed with him. They'd even had a few different duels to see if him being accidentally disarmed would make the wand switch to her, but even after him being 'defeated' the revered wand had always remained his.)

And now here they were, Regulus looking at him with disbelief and weary acceptance at Harry having ended up in yet another bizarre situation than defied any and all forms of logic. Though it was kind of nice having someone else understand how weird it was that these things always seemed to zero in on Harry instead of anyone else.

“You have the Elder Wand.”

“Yes,” he replied

Regulus raised a brow. “The wand apparently bestowed on some random man by Death.”

“Not exactly random. His name was Antioch Peverell. He and his two younger brothers are buried in the graveyard at Godric's Hollow. Cadmus and Ignotus. You know, the 'Three Brothers'.”

The room was silent as Regulus sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking to the ceiling as if praying for something. Sanity maybe? Harry might not ever have the opportunity to be with the other man romantically but he'd at least like to stay friends with him, and if that meant keeping up with his quirky antics then so be it. He supposed any relationship was better than none at all. Besides, it was still hilarious to see a member of the House of Black caught off-guard so much.

“Okay,” Regulus said, interrupting his thoughts, “disregarding your insane penchant for stumbling across the bizarre and unnatural, which apparently includes picking up supposedly mythical artefacts, we still need to come up with a plan to kill Tom. I know murder isn't exactly your thing but he isn't an individual I'm happy to leave alive. The man created Horcruxes for Merlin's sake, he isn't someone who would have any compunctions doing anything to escape any prison he ended up in.”

“Regulus, I told you before I'm willing to kill if it need be, and this situation doesn't really have any other acceptable outcomes. We're definitely going to end him, but we need to find him first and also find a way to pin him down so we can kill him. I'm not really sure what we can use for that. He might be a monster but he's still insanely strong.”

The Black snorted and frowned. “Indeed he is. He's well-versed in all manner of magics and offensive spells which might be used against him. He's always constantly on guard for spells and potions, and not once has he ever allowed someone to draw their wand in front of him without his permission.

“He's like some sort of wild animal furiously protecting his territory and making sure others don't threaten his power.”

Harry laughed at the mental image before an idea came to mind. It was more than a little insane (which was really saying something if even _he_ was willing to admit it), completely out of left field for a fight with a Dark Lord, and it essentially spat in the face of magic and magical fighting everywhere.

He sat up straight and grinned a little madly, looking Regulus dead in the eye. “Have you ever thought about doing things the muggle way?”

Regulus blinked confusedly. “How?”

Harry smirked.

* * *

“... Harry?”

“Regulus?”

“Why are we here?”

“You did say Tom was like a wild animal.”

“That doesn't explain why we're visiting a _zoo_.”

Harry supposed his actions seemed a little strange to the other man – and by strange he meant bloody mental – but there was indeed a method to his madness, at least in his own mind. Regulus had said that Tom was an expert on magic and had trained extensively to notice subtle magic used around him. The chances of taking him out without getting hurt using magic were fairly low, even with his wonder wand.

He hadn't been lying about doing things the muggle way. Tom would never expect to be attacked in any muggle way considering his bigoted views, thinking everything muggle was beyond useless. Harry knew better. He'd grown up in the muggle world and he knew how certain things worked, and Regulus' words on Tom being like an animal had reminded Harry of his trip to the zoo for Dudley's birthday. The most memorable part of that visit had of course been the boa constrictor, but he'd had the chance to see a variety of creatures during the visit. Some of which included large and dangerous predators that could potentially try and kill someone if they weren't handled properly. The zoo guide had mentioned about the zoo keepers being trained properly to interact with the animals, but they also had safety measures in place in case things went sideways.

Like tranquilizer guns.

It was such a ridiculous idea that it would probably work, even if the idea of shooting Tom with drugs designed to take out rampaging animals made him want to giggle. These drugs were probably more than enough to down a human in seconds and they even had the potential to kill Tom if the dosage was too high. Which wasn't exactly a bad thing considering they were going to kill him anyway.

“Regulus, you see these animals? They're wild animals. Dangerous, willing to kill humans, _will_ kill humans if their instincts tell them it's the best course of action. Yet people come here to look at them and humans work with them intimately despite the danger. Exactly how do you think muggles take down these creatures if they go out of control?”

The silver-eyed man frowned as he thought over the question. “Is there a way to do so?”

“Yup,” Harry answered. “The employees – the zoo keepers – have access to specialised guns used to knock out the animals. Instead of traditional bullets used during muggle wars, they're armed with needles filled with potent drugs. Think of them like sleeping potions. They knock animals out fairly quickly so nobody gets hurt.

“The reason they're not used on humans is because everyone reacts to them differently and there can be some pretty nasty side effects, anywhere from slight sickness up to violent death. The ones used for the bigger animals have enough of the drug to knock out a single human in mere seconds, if it doesn't kill them outright.”

He finished his explanation with a grin at his partner in crime, getting a smirk in return with a glint in silver eyes.

“Oh, really?”

“Hmm. When you think about it, theft isn't really an issue in comparison to murder.”

“Indeed.”

And with that the pair wandered off to rob the zoo blind, silently thankful that magic was so useful.

* * *

There were many things that Harry had never thought he'd ever see, which considering the unusual and, quite frankly, _bizarre_ nature of magic was saying a lot. Their world was full of many weird and wacky things that completely ignored the rules of the universe and common sense alike, but some ideas were simply too strange to contemplate.

Like seeing a Black actually using a gun.

Regulus Black, perfect pure-blood, scion of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, most likely son to become Heir Black in the future, could use a tranquilizer gun. Very well, in fact. Harry thought he could be forgiven for being totally bewildered at the sight. (Though imagining what Walburga Black would say if she could see her youngest son expertly wielding a muggle weapon made him cry with laughter.)

The evening of their spur-of-the-moment trip to the zoo had been spent examining the stolen gun and its ammunition. They'd tested if the gun could be silenced with a spell when shot, using magically-duplicated ammo so they didn't waste the genuine stuff. Apparently it was rather easy to silence the weapon with magic, which had only left whether or not the two of them could actually aim the bloody thing.

They'd left it for the morning after and gone to bed, though this morning they'd spent quite a few hours training to use the gun. Now they could both adequately shoot it, both at close-range and long-range, so they didn't even need to get up that close and personal to take the bastard out. The current plan was to shoot as many darts as possible at the bastard and hope that killed him quickly. Depending on where he was it could prove to be a little difficult if the family wards did anything. Hopefully he'd be in the manor of someone Harry could easily Imperius into not helping Tom.

Plan aside, it was certainly strange to see Regulus holding the gun and looking so comfortable doing so, and he had the strangest urge to break down laughing, though he didn't think it would be very well received.

He supposed another reason it was so strange was because of how arousing he found the image. Regulus looked poised and focused, holding a deadly weapon and standing proud and dangerous. Harry kept having to think of dead puppies to stop his body from reacting. Getting an erection while wearing thin trousers was not going to go down well.

“... ry? Harry?”

He jolted at the sound of his voice and whirled around to see Regulus frowning at him. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” he smiled. “Just lost in thought. What's up?”

“We should probably go ahead and Imperius Bellatrix before she ends up disappearing somewhere. The Dark Lord might send her on some mission or whatnot if we leave things too long.”

 _Oops, didn't think of that._ “That is a very good point. Do you know where we can find her?”

Regulus nodded with a blank face. Harry couldn't imagine being a situation like this with someone who was your family.

“Well,” he said as he stood up, “no time like the present.”

_The quicker we do this, the quicker Regulus can deal with it._

* * *

Regulus wasn't entirely aware of his surroundings at the moment, too out of sorts to be on guard as he usually was.

Bellatrix, his _cousin_ , was so much more vile than he'd ever wanted to think about. She'd always been strong-willed and slightly malicious, but the woman sat in front of him was so far removed from the girl he'd once known that he didn't know what to do.

Finding Bellatrix and Imperiusing her to follow them back to Grimmauld Place had been pathetically easy with Harry's wand – and he was resolutely  _not_ analysing the origins of said wand for the sake of his own sanity – and soon the three of them had been ensconced in the old Black home together. He and Harry had looked at the dazed woman intensely, though Harry had genuinely looked to be resisting the urge to move onto one of the other Unforgivables; Regulus supposed having the woman who'd killed your parent figure sitting in front of you wasn't exactly the easiest situation to deal with.

Harry had compelled the woman to answer each and every question posed to her by both of them, and Regulus had then taken charge of questioning his insane cousin on anything he could think of. Tom's location, the location of the other Death Eaters, current and upcoming 'missions' … He'd been as thorough as possible and hadn't been disappointed.

Horrified was another matter entirely.

He didn't understand how she'd ended up like this, delighting over killing pure-bloods and happily arranging for her husband and brother-in-law to torture and rape other women. Bellatrix had once been a proud daughter of the House of Black, strong and poised as she powered through Hogwarts getting some of the best marks of her year. He remembered she'd once said something about getting a Mastery, so why had she become a psychotic monster bent on murder? For Merlin's sake, she'd even mentioned something about killing Edgar Bones and his children, and they were babies! Precious children, and she had absolutely no qualms about seeing them murdered for being a family of 'blood traitors'.

How had he ever thought Voldemort was someone to look up to? Had he really been so blind? So foolish?

“You're not foolish.”

He turned to see Harry looking at him, bright green orbs piercing though him as he spoke. Apparently he'd started talking out loud.

“You're not foolish. A foolish man wouldn't have used his brain and realised the person they'd joined was a monster. A foolish man wouldn't have decided to go against said monster despite it being dangerous. A foolish man wouldn't have owned up to their own mistakes and tried to rectify them.”

Harry stepped forward and smiled gently. “You might have made a couple of mistakes in your life, but one thing you're not is a foolish man.”

Regulus drew in a sharp breath at the sight before him. Harry's eyes looked to be glowing slightly in the afternoon sunshine and he was staring at Regulus intensely as he reassured him. The shorter man genuinely believed in his words, thought Regulus to be a good man and didn't compare him to his bloodthirsty cousin.

Harry Potter really was tempting him, knowingly or not.

“Thank you, Harry.”

The other man beamed at him and turned back to his notes, looking over all the information the woman had not-so-willingly provided them with.

“So. We know that Tom's in Lestrange Manor and will be for a few days, so Bellatrix can probably get us in so we can shoot him and hopefully kill him. Is there anything else you want to add?”

Regulus cleared his throat. “Actually, yes. You said something before about rounding up the worst of the Death Eaters. We could probably make Bellatrix slowly take out a few of them for us. Loathe as I am to admit it, she is a formidable witch and is magically stronger than many of the others. She could easily take some of them out and take them somewhere before we get them arrested.”

Harry blinked at him. “You're kind of brilliant, aren't you?”

_Blacks do not blush._

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Harry would be the death of him.

* * *

“Do you trust me?”

Harry turned from the fireplace to see Regulus looking rather determined for a Slytherin. Not that the snakes weren't determined in their own way, but he'd never seen one of them display it so openly. They usually sat back and manoeuvred things from behind the scenes in a much subtler manner than what the Black was currently displaying.

They were still at Grimmauld Place, making plans upon plans for killing Tom the following day. On the one hand Harry thought that he should be concerned how blasé he was being about planning a murder, but on the other it was _Tom Riddle._ The arsehole didn't deserve anything less than death.

Their plans were progressing disturbingly well, Grimmauld Place now playing home to four Death Eaters upstairs who'd been given a sleeping potion designed to last a couple of days. Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Antonin Dolohov and Peter Pettigrew were all being held in a warded room upstairs, completely unconscious under the watchful eyes of Kreacher who was making sure they couldn't escape. Hopefully they'd be able to more or less decimate the Death Eater ranks using Bellatrix in time for Tom's death.

“Regulus?”

“Do you trust me?” he repeated intently.

Harry had never trusted easily. Growing up with the Dursleys, having people keep things from him, friends turning against him from jealousy, all these things and more had only served to make him extraordinarily wary to the idea of trust. It took a long time to trust someone, not a couple of days. He could never trust someone so quickly, not someone who he didn't really know. He opened his mouth to answer.

“Yes, I do.”

Except he _did_ trust Regulus. Harry wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but it had. Harry had been more candid with Regulus over the past couple of days than he'd been with anyone else ever. Even with Ron and Hermione he'd censored himself, always making sure to keep the peace with his two overly-stubborn friends. He never would have told Hermione that her plans were shit, or been so upfront with his morally-grey views with Ron. The two might have been his closest friends but they'd always expected Harry to fit into some box of sorts; every time he'd done something unexpected and outside of said box they'd criticised him, shoving him back down into what they thought 'Harry Potter' should be. (Just because they were friends didn't mean Harry was unaware of their faults.)

But Regulus wasn't like that. Even if the man despaired over Harry's blunt attitude or crass language, or bemoaned his slightly mad personality he never tried to tell Harry to change. To the Black, how Harry acted was who he was and it didn't need to be changed.

He nodded. “Of course I trust you, Regulus.”

“Then can you turn around?”

Harry tensed a little at the idea of showing someone his back, but if the other man had wanted him dead he wouldn't even be looking at silver eyes right now. He slowly turned back towards the fireplace, stopping with his back facing the other man and waited.

He heard a few steps as Regulus moved closer, so close in fact that Harry could feel the man if he leaned back slightly. He waited for a second before he saw two hands come over the top of his head and lowered, coming together at the back of his neck. Harry felt smooth fingers brush the skin there and he shivered at the gentle caress.

“There.”

Harry felt somewhat light-headed at how close Regulus was but he had enough awareness to notice the cold chain around his neck and the slight weight resting against his chest just underneath his collarbones. He looked down and saw a pendant and pulled it up to see what it was. Resting on a thin silver chain was a large emerald, sparkling and reflecting the light off its faceted edges. But curling around the gem, almost as if protecting it, was a small dragon carved from silver, its molten wings flaring possessively around the green stone. It was breath-taking.

“Regulus?”

“It's a little early, but Happy Birthday, Harry.”

His birthday. He'd completely forgotten about it coming up, even before accidentally ending up in the past. It wasn't a day that had ever felt all that important to him but for once he was grateful to have it acknowledged, even if it was a week early.

He spun around and grabbed the man in a spur-of-the-moment hug, holding him tightly. “Thank you, Regulus.”

After a moment he felt strong arms come up and hold onto him just as tightly. “You're welcome.”

Harry pulled back to thank him face-to-face before he froze at the feeling of a hand on his waist and Regulus' face slowly moving closer to his. The shorter man felt his breath hitch, not knowing what was going on before soft but firm lips pressed themselves to his cheek, just grazing the corner of his mouth.

Regulus pulled back and looked him in the eye, a hand coming up to cup the side of his neck where he started stroking the skin with his thumb. “Goodnight, Harry.”

A moment later Harry blinked back into awareness, noticing he was alone in the room. His heart was racing, his face felt on fire, but there was still a necklace laying against his chest so he knew it hadn't been a dream.

Regulus had kissed him. Regulus had _kissed_ him.

_Oh God._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I hope people aren't too annoyed with my plot here, but I've read a few stories where Voldemort just isn't really all-powerful and so they finish things the normal way instead. That and I have a bad sense of humour. As I mentioned before Voldemort really isn't the focus of the story, Harry and Regulus are and their relationship. 
> 
> Until next time!


	7. 100 points for Gryffindor impulsiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'
> 
> Remember the warning about terrible plot resolution? Here we are.

Lestrange Manor was an imposing building, all dark bricks and wrought iron decorations around the outside, and the entire aura made Harry feel nauseous.

It wasn't just the design that was the issue, but rather the lingering feeling of malevolence clinging to every inch of the property. Harry wasn't the best at sensing magic, but the cloying sensation of dark magic was thick enough for even him to sense. Clearly someone had been doing magic they weren't supposed to, and he could feel his skin crawl just standing in the vicinity of it.

He looked at Regulus to see his already-pale face look pasty and ill, and the stony expression told Harry the other man wasn't exactly comfortable at his cousin's manor either, even if them being here was the best possible plan they had.

A still-Imperiused Bellatrix was strangely enough the best ally they could possibly have, and the crazy bitch had also managed to Imperius her husband into helping them. Rodolphus Lestrange was apparently pathetically easy to take off guard, and the man had subsequently begun to follow his wife's every order like a loyal dog.

His brother Rabastan had now joined the other 'guests' at Grimmauld Place under the watchful eyes of a very determined Kreacher, along with Walden Macnair and Barty Crouch Jr. The fanatical idiots had been more than willing to go along with Bellatrix who was still spouting her usual praise for Tom, allowing her the chance to catch them unawares and knock them out, helping Harry and Regulus to add to the growing collection of the nastiest Death Eaters. They just had to add the Lestrange couple and they would be done.

Regulus had asked if he was letting Snape go free, but Harry revealed he was actually being rather vindictive about the situation.

“Regulus, these arseholes are going to end up getting arrested and sent to Azkaban, but what do you want to bet they'll try and sell out their 'friends' to save their own skin? There's no doubt that someone'll try and implicate Snape so he's going to have to try and save himself pretty fast. He is a smooth talker, so maybe he'll go free.

“But freedom's its own kind of punishment. Either he goes to Azkaban, lives a life on the run, or goes free and has to live with the knowledge that the woman he's loved for years will know every disgusting thing he's ever done. She'll probably never speak to him again, especially after she warned him about the Death Eaters back in school. My mum might not have handled things the best way in Hogwarts, but she did tell Snape his friends were disgusting humans and not to trust them, yet he did it anyway.

“He can live with the knowledge that Lily Evans is now Lily Potter and she'll never speak to him again.”

Harry knew he sounded particularly harsh but Snape was an arsehole. Yes, he'd saved Harry countless times and was a double agent that put his life on the line, but that didn't excuse his ridiculous bias towards his own House and the fact that he was a grown man bullying children because his own life sucked. It was pretty hypocritical that he'd always pointed out Harry's mistakes but had never owned up to any of his own.

Severus Snape deserved the painful realisation that Lily hated him and was disgusted by what he'd done as a Death Eater. Harry had no doubt she would be.

“Harry?”

He mentally shook of the thoughts of his most-hated professor and turned to Regulus. The Black was stood looking uneasily at their two companions, the dazed expressions of Bellatrix and Rodolphus a far cry from the usual glints of cruelty or madness. Harry had Imperiused the two of them again to make sure they would stay still, and the insane couple would be forced to stay out of sight and not make a sound, not answer Voldemort or anyone else while Harry and Regulus dealt with the madman.

First they had to ensure the bastard couldn't escape if things didn't go to plan immediately. The house-elves at Lestrange Manor had all been sent away already, the orders to clean all the other Lestrange properties useful for keeping them away. They'd been told not to return for anything at all until the following day, meaning the small creatures wouldn't want to earn their masters' ire by ignoring orders. There wouldn't be any house-elves getting in the way at least.

Harry watched as Rodolphus closed his eyes and felt through the wards of the property, trying to figure out where Tom was in the massive building.

“He's upstairs in his personal suite.”

“Where exactly is the personal suite?” Regulus questioned sharply.

Rodolphus gazed at them vacantly. “On the third floor, all the way at the end of the corridor on the left.”

The Potter met his partner's eye and they both nodded at one another. Harry turned back to the vile Lord and Lady Lestrange to give more instructions.

“Firstly, you two will enter the manor silently. Then you will go to the main fireplace and shut off the floo connection, making sure to be as quiet as you can possibly be. You will make sure that every single fireplace in this manor, even the one being used by Voldemort, is detached from the floo network. No fireplaces will be able to be flooed from or to.”

Regulus cut in. “Then you will hide yourselves in the basement and raise the wards of the manor. This includes the Apparition and portkey wards. You will make sure that nobody can leave or enter Lestrange Manor by Apparating or using a portkey. You will also include house-elf Apparition, and you will freeze all the portraits. You will not come to the aid of the Dark Lord if he calls for you or demands your presence, you will remain in the basement, standing quietly and doing nothing until we come and fetch you. Do you understand?”

Distracted words of affirmation were offered sedately and Regulus caught Harry's eyes and smiled grimly. Despite the situation, the green-eyed man couldn't help but remember the chaste yet intimate kiss of the previous evening and he tried not to blush. _So not the right time._

“Right. Time to get to it.”

A few minutes later saw Harry and Regulus stood by themselves in the imposing and disturbing Lestrange Manor, the dead silence incredibly disconcerting. After all, while they might have trapped Voldemort in one place to dispose of him, they had also trapped themselves in with him. Harry might have the Elder Wand and Regulus was a formidable duellist, but they were still trying to take out a Dark Lord – there was no such thing as an assured win.

They each took out the tranquilizer guns they'd stolen from the zoo – Harry hoped nobody else would get blamed for their thievery – and made sure they had the appropriate drugs ready to go. One the one hand Harry could see this as a massive cop-out for getting rid of Tom, but on the other he really didn't give a shit. Not only did it actually make some logical sense, but the opportunity for hilarious irony was way too tempting to pass up.

Tom Riddle was incredibly strong in terms of magic and knew a lot about esoteric spells used in combat situations. He also knew plenty of shields that were very effective against all manner of offensive spells. The thing about that however, was that the majority of magical shields were only designed to repel magical attacks, allowing anything physical to pass through unimpeded. This was why offing Tom without magic was more logical, hence the guns. (Harry would have suggested actual guns if he'd known where to get them, but just because he was a little mad didn't mean he was a well-connected criminal.)

The other reason that taking Tom down as if he were a wild animal was the better idea was simply to amuse himself and Regulus. Tom was a bigoted, prejudiced arsehole who spent more time acting like a toddler throwing his toys out his pram rather than a fully-functioning adult. Granted the idiot had split his soul into pieces and was probably legitimately insane right now, but that was beside the point.

He'd spent years proclaiming muggles to be beneath him, to be stupid and as useless as ants, so much so that he completely ignored anything about their technology, evolving culture and even their politics. All things which had the potential to affect the magical world seeing as how magicals were the minority, but all things which were ignored by a crazy person that seemed to simultaneously have a superiority and inferiority complex, as well as a fuck ton of daddy and abandonment issues.

For someone like him to be taken out using something that he would deem totally beneath him was actually hysterical to Harry, and once he'd explained things to Regulus the other man had looked bemused but had agreed with him. Though he'd also called Harry petty and vindictive, so who knew if he really agreed? _Bastard. I'm not petty. Petty would be feeding Tom to the bloody basilisk and laughing as his beloved pet ate him._

… _Maybe I do have some issues._

Harry shook off the thoughts and caught the Black's eye, gesturing with his head to the staircase and getting a nod in return.

_No time like the present._

* * *

“That was disgusting, and I hate you.”

“Regulus! It's not my fault that happened! I thought he'd just fall over in a dead faint or something, not … _that_.”

“Well, he did, and now I feel sick.”

“You're not the only one ...”

The Potter and Black duo turned to look at the remains of what used to be the Dark Lord Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, snake-face, etcetera, etcetera, and both tried to resist adding to the mess on the floor by vomiting. In their defence, the sight was genuinely revolting.

Once more in their joint journey to rid the world of Tom, the supposed 'hard part' had turned out to be pathetically easy, as after they'd crept up the stairs they'd found Tom's suite … completely unlocked. Apparently having Lord Lestrange raise all the wards had served to reverse the ones that Tom cast himself. Which was pathetic, but whatever.

They'd then disillusioned themselves, mentally and physically prepared themselves for some high-paced and adrenaline-filled battle before slowly entering the room, completely on guard and ready for Voldemort to jump out at them, wand brandished and spells flying.

He'd been asleep.

It had been such a let-down and Harry had been so furious that he'd shot all ten doses of highly-concentrated tranquillizer at Tom, joined by at least five of Regulus' before the body had started to move.

Fortunately for them – or not depending on your point of view – Tom hadn't exactly been conscious. Instead the body in front of them had started seizing up and foaming at the mouth, eyes rolling backwards in their sockets as the body thrashed around so badly it fell on the floor. By that point Tom's magic had started swirling around the room, trying to heal him if Harry was right.

Instead the violent magic seemed to react to the drugs in Tom's system, the wild force making the drugs work even faster. (Maybe? Harry wasn't exactly a doctor or a Healer, so he had no real clue what had happened). All he knew was that one moment Tom had been having such a bad fit that he was seconds from death even if they didn't help him along, the next his body had started leaking blood. And other substances. Out of every single orifice on his body. _Every_ orifice.

The urge to puke was strong.

Along with the various … _substances_ , the body seemed to have shrunk in on itself, now looking like a slightly mummified and emaciated mess. And they still had to get the body back.

This was going to be _so_ fun.

Harry turned to Regulus who raised a brow at him. “I'm not touching that.”

This was not going to be fun.

* * *

“This is utter chaos.”

“Indeed.”

“I am a little worried about the bastards trying to bribe their way out, though. You wouldn't believe how many of them got away with the whole 'I was Imperiused' thing last time.”

“Don't worry, Grandfather's going to be at the Ministry and he'll demand for trials with Veritaserum. Lord Black isn't really someone the Wizengamot can ignore.”

Harry turned to him with a puzzled look. “Exactly how did you get your grandfather to be in the right place at the right time?”

“... I sent him a letter.”

“Huh. Okay,” Harry shrugged.

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “Aren't you going to ask what I wrote?”

“It's not really any of my business, Regulus. I told you before, Black business is Black business.”

Before he could reply there was a pained shout of disbelief and he and Harry turned as one to see James Potter and Sirius Black looking at the group of bound Death Eaters in shock. It was more than mere shock though, the two looking like they'd just had their hearts ripped out at the sight before them.

They'd never expected to see Peter Pettigrew with a Dark Mark on his arm.

Instead of trying to figure out a way to deliver their unwitting prisoners to the Aurors, they'd decided to bring the Aurors to the soon-to-be inmates. Considering that Bartemius Crouch Sr. was currently the Head of the DMLE, the same gentleman who'd thrown his brother into Azkaban without a trial (even imbeciles deserved to be proven guilty before incarceration), Regulus had suggested sending simultaneous letters to Crouch, Amelia Bones and Alastor Moody to ensure someone came to their location.

They'd sent a few letters stating that the dead body of a certain Dark Lord and a fair number of his primary followers were unconscious and awaiting capture just outside the Shrieking Shack in an abandoned clearing.

A surprisingly short while later (he'd heard many dreadful things about Auror response time), various members of the DMLE had shown up en masse to investigate the scene before them. Regulus could tell they hadn't actually expected to find a number of genuine Death Eaters, most of them some of the most notorious, captured and being offered up to them on a silver platter.

He and Harry were currently stood to the side of the clearing huddled together under Harry's cloak, making sure that the Ministry was actually doing their job. Something which had seemed awkward when someone had realised one of the Death Eaters was actually the son of the Head of the DMLE. Crouch was certainly looking a little furious at the situation.

He supposed fury was one possible response. The other seemed to be the utter misery and denial etched on his older brother's face. He and Potter looked completely disbelieving, the Lord Potter (apparently) actually arguing with Amelia Bones to free his friend. James Potter seemed to be entirely convinced that there had been a mistake with Peter Pettigrew's place amongst the Death Eaters, though Regulus knew full well the snivelling man had come crawling to the Dark Lord by himself.

He'd seen the older man just once, though Regulus had had his face covered the entire time as per Voldemort's instructions. He was rather glad the insane man had forced Regulus to wear a mask the entire time he'd met the others, wanting to keep the fact that he had the 'control' of the House of Black a secret for a later date. Of course he wouldn't get the chance now, and while others had been suspicious of him being a Death Eater nobody had been given definitive proof. There was no way he could be implicated in the trials, and the fact that Harry had removed the Dark Mark was more than enough to ensure he stayed away from prison.

Not to mention his grandfather would simply help Regulus bribe his way out if it came to it.

Regulus looked up as the madness carried on, people moving left and right as they carted off bodies to the holding cells at the Ministry, including the very dead body of one Tom Riddle which nobody wanted to touch.

“The Aurors are probably going to want to question you at some point.”

“I know,” Regulus replied. “Perhaps we should relocate to a more public venue? That way when they try and make their accusations there will be witnesses to them being proven wrong.”

Harry smirked at him. “You're such a Slytherin.”

“You're not exactly the most noble lion yourself, you know.”

“Well, the hat did try and put me in Slytherin first.”

Regulus just sighed wearily at Harry's cheeky grin. It said something that he was becoming so accustomed to being wrong-footed.

_Why am I not surprised?_

* * *

“Black!”

Harry turned to see Moody stalk up to Regulus with a stern-looking Amelia and a furious Sirius behind him.

He felt his heart sink at the sight of his beloved godfather's face; the Sirius of this time was still an immature child that hadn't evolved past his narrow-minded hatred of all things Slytherin. While the adult Sirius had still been rather iffy towards the snakes, twelve years of Azkaban had muted that anger, especially as the person responsible for his new home had been a friend from Gryffindor.

Harry loved Sirius immensely but he didn't think the man was the most mature person around, and this situation had probably stirred up all sorts of issues floating around in the back of his head. He could only hope this would go well for Regulus.

“Auror Moody. To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine day?”

The Potter tried not to roll his eyes; Regulus managed to sound polite, bored and entirely apathetic all at the same time, all the while maintaining the standard 'pure-blood' mask of no emotions. He wondered if it said something about him that he found the look attractive.

“I have a warrant to search your arms for the Dark Mark.”

_They work quick._

It seemed as if having Lord Arcturus Black going mad at the Ministry had inadvertently lit a fire under the DMLE and they were now questioning everyone possibly involved. Though Harry did wonder who it was that suggested searching Regulus seeing as none of the other Death Eaters had been introduced to him yet. He had the sinking feeling the older Black brother was acting out in his anger.

Regulus kept his composure and raised a thin brow questioningly. “Is that so? I'm going to assume you wish to get this over and done with, so I shall oblige you as quickly as possible.”

Before the Auror trio could try and haul Regulus off, the aristocratic man casually removed his robe and lay it on a nearby sign before starting to roll up his sleeves. By now there was a crowd avidly watching the spectacle of Aurors questioning a member of the House of Black, and Harry had to bite his tongue to stop the smirk that wanted to appear.

The Aurors wouldn't be able to dismiss the results after having performed the tests in public and they'd probably end up looking all the worse for it. Harry loved Sirius, but Regulus was someone that knew the real him and didn't care, so if Sirius started in on his brother he wouldn't let it stand.

Regulus finished expertly rolling his sleeves, adjusting the cuffs so they lay straight before holding his arms out in front of him with his palms up. At the sight of two bare arms most of the crowd looked to be won over, a few looking disapprovingly at the Ministry officials who were still frowning.

“That's all well and good, but there's more than one way to hide something.”

Moody stalked forward and jabbed his wand towards Regulus' arms. The Black didn't move but Harry was sure he was feeling some sort of pain from the spell; the Potter didn't recognise the magic but he could tell it was invasive and not at all gentle.

Soon enough the paranoid Auror had cast every detection spell he could think of and begrudging backed away. “He's clean.”

Amelia cleared her throat looking embarrassed. “Mr Black, I apologise for –”

“There's no way!”

Everyone, including the crowd, turned to Sirius as he shouted, a slightly crazed look to his grey eyes. “He has to be a Death Eater!”

“And why is that, Auror Black?”

Eyes were suddenly on Harry as he looked up at the cluster of people from his spot next to a display case.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, why are you so determined that Regulus Black is a Death Eater when it has clearly been proven that he has no Dark Mark? Do you have so little faith in your colleague's ability to discover a hidden mark?”

“Because I know him! He's always been a good little Death Eater in training, learning dark magic and curses. There's no way he's not one, I know what he's like!” Sirius shouted.

Harry felt the urge to cry but ignored it. “Oh really? It's interesting you say that Mr Black, especially as it's common knowledge that the two of you haven't had proper contact in years. The fact that you didn't speak at Hogwarts is common knowledge, the fact that you ran away from home at the age of sixteen is also fairly well known, as is the fact that you don't have any contact with your family at all, nor have you for years.

“So no, Mr Black, I _don't_ think you know Regulus Black. He's been a stranger to you for far too many years for you to be able to say that you know him. Not to mention I'm more than a little concerned about you working on a case investigating your estranged brother. The familial relationship aside, your feelings on the matter are clearly less than professional. Are you sure there isn't a conflict of interest on this case? If this is how the Department of Magical Law Enforcement handles things, I dread to think of what sort of morals you have.”

His words seemed to have caused a metaphorical shock in everyone listening to him, and Harry mentally thanked Andromeda for her lessons once more. Moody looked more than a little pissed off but also strangely approving, and Harry remembered that the crazy man had always thought it better for people to think for themselves. Amelia looked utterly mortified at this point, especially after having her department's deficiencies pointed out for the – approving – crowd to hear.

Sirius looked like he'd slapped in the face.

He stepped back from Harry, face paling and gaping, eyes darting back and forth from Harry to Regulus. The sight of pale and bare arms still on display kept catching his attention, and Harry thought he could see a hint of remorse in the familiar silver eyes. He didn't know if their relationship would ever get better, but hopefully Sirius wouldn't automatically think the worst of Regulus for simply being himself.

“Is that all, or do you need me to strip down naked to assure you of my bare skin?”

Harry choked at the drawling and mocking tone, though he was more focused on the images that had sprung to mind from the sarcastic words. _No, bad Harry! Do not think about naked Regulus, stop it!_

He shook of the unwanted – _but oh-so-wanted_ – images just in time to see trio of Aurors bid a hasty retreat under the eyes of the disapproving public, though Sirius' eyes looked incredibly conflicted. Harry just hoped he would start to realise not everything existed in black and white.

Regulus had his back to Harry, pulling his robe back on with effortless grace. _Bastard_. He turned around and gave Harry a strange look.

“Thank you. For defending me.”

_I want him._

The thought was like a punch to the gut and he suddenly remembered that little voice in the back of his head. It was telling him to take his time, but the last time he'd ignored that voice he'd gotten to meet Regulus Black and had made the best of a weird situation. He could do it again. He might have almost been put in Slytherin, but he was still an impulsive Gryffindor.

“Regulus, can we go back? Like, now?”

The Black frowned before striding towards the Apparition point with a hand on Harry's shoulder. A quick Side-Along later and the two were stood in the drawing room.

“Harry, what –”

Regulus' words were unfortunately cut off before he could ask anything, but fortunately they were cut off by Harry.

By Harry's lips to be exact.

Harry held on to the other man's waist for a few seconds before he pulled back breathlessly. He had a feeling his face was flushed but he really didn't care. Well, as long as Regulus didn't care, anyway.

“Please tell me this is okay.”

Considering Regulus' reply was to spin him around and shove him against the wall, devouring his mouth as he did so, Harry had a feeling the reply was positive.

He wrapped his hands around the other man's neck and pulled him closer.

_I knew ignoring that voice wasn't bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Hopefully you don't absolutely hate me for my ridiculous way of ending things with Voldemort this way, I just thought it would be so fun for Harry to make a complete mockery of everything Voldemort was by doing things like this. Sorry if you don't like it.
> 
> There's going to be an interlude chapter soon enough with reactions from other characters, and I'm also considering doing a part two of this later. It definitely won't be plot-based, more a slice of life fic about Harry and Regulus' lives together. What do you think? Let me know :)
> 
> Until next time!


	8. Sanity? Who needs that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'
> 
> I've messed around a little bit with canon dates, but considering this is fanfiction I can do what I want lol :D

“Voldemort's dead.”

“I know, I was there.”

When Regulus didn't get a reply he turned sideways on the bed to see Harry frowning at the bed sheets, looking much too deep in thought for the circumstances. He had an errant thought that the smaller man would look infinitely better if he had no clothes on and a blissed out expression but unfortunately that wasn't the case. Though he knew that wouldn't happen for a while yet.

To say he'd been mildly surprised at Harry jumping on him and kissing him senselessly would be an understatement, though it had certainly been a delightful thing to experience, even if they'd kept the encounter relatively chaste and remained kissing the entire time. Regulus had been more than a little surprised at Harry's nervous confession that he was still a virgin, though he supposed living in a world where people worshipped you for stupid reasons made it difficult to know if someone was genuine in their feelings. That, and growing up having a crazy Dark Lord try and kill you every year meant there were more important things to worry about. (He was still baffled beyond comprehension that nobody in Harry's time had seen fit to snap up the delectable man, but the better for him, he supposed.)

He'd held himself back from doing too much to the green-eyed time traveller, but he'd still taken Harry upstairs to nap in his room with him. It was a nice change of pace to fall asleep holding a warm body, especially one as enticing as Harry's.

Regulus looked at his companion and reached over to play with the messy hair falling into the verdant eyes. “What's bothering you about him being dead?”

“... Killing Voldemort's practically the only thing I'm good at, the only thing I've ever known. I don't know what to do now, not to mention I can't just pop up out of thin air and claim to be a Potter. My father would probably demand an inheritance test and things would go to shit pretty quickly.”

The Black rolled his eyes at Harry's usual crassness and replied, “I guarantee you, killing a Dark Lord is _not_ the only thing you're good at. Not only are you very skilled at magic – I'd guess DADA was your best class at Hogwarts – you are excellent at coming up with plans on the go. They might seem to be a little strange sometimes, but the abstract logic of them is astounding.

“Not to mention your rambling about using the school system to combat prejudice was nothing short of genius. There's a reason that I sent a letter to my grandfather explaining everything you said. It was so brilliant that it's definitely going to be implemented.”

Harry's eyes widened. “Regulus –”

He leant over and cut off Harry's words by fastening their lips together, pressing harder at the sound of surprise underneath him. He pushed Harry onto his back and crawled on top of him, all the while revelling in the feeling of the other man's soft lips.

He slid his fingers through messy locks as he swept his tongue over the smaller man's lips, delighting in the soft gasps and hands gripping his arms tightly. Harry opened his mouth in shock and Regulus licked in to the inviting warmth, swallowing the needy moans from the other man's mouth.

The Black could feel Harry's body start to respond to the pleasurable sensations and regretfully knew it was probably a little too early to do anything more intimate than kissing. While Regulus might have had many a fantasy of the green-eyed man spread out on his sheets, he also knew that he'd never been a fan of falling into bed with someone after a mere few days. Even if that person was a very tempting Potter.

He gently pulled back while nibbling on Harry's lips before pressing a firm but chaste kiss to the bright red mouth. Regulus lifted his head and had to bite back a groan at the image before him. Harry's eyes were heavily lidded with the pupils blown wide, only a thin ring of green still visible. His face was flushed a deep red, the colour extending all the way down his face and neck and slipping under the shirt he was wearing. The man's glasses were crooked, and combined with the hair sticking up in all directions – made even worse by Regulus running his hands through it – he looked like he'd just been thoroughly shagged. Which _really_ wasn't helping his self-control. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in.

_I will not take advantage. Think disgusting thoughts._

“Regulus?”

The man in question opened his eyes and looked down at the tempting man once more. Harry's dazed expression had cleared somewhat now, a questioning look in the glowing emerald orbs, though the enticing flush was still present on the pale skin.

Harry bit his lip and Regulus had to hold himself back from doing the same thing himself, though the words kind of put a dampener on the mood.

“Did I do something wrong?”

_Merlin, he's beautiful. Wait, what did he say? Wrong?_

“What do you mean?” he enquired.

Harry fidgeted and averted his eyes. “You stopped. Didn't … didn't you want to carry on?”

Regulus blinked incredulously. “Harry. You have absolutely no idea how much I want to carry on. Seriously, you're incredibly tempting and I definitely have the urge to go further, but we _have_ only known each other for a few days. I've always thought it best to wait for a while before taking that step. Not to mention you told me you've never been intimate with anyone before, let alone a man. Do you honestly feel ready to have sex?”

Harry blushed even deeper at the idea even as a frown found its way to his face. The Potter absentmindedly ran his hands up and down the taller man's arms as he seemed to deliberate with himself. Eventually he sighed and seemed to slump into the bed dejectedly.

“I guess not. I mean, of course I've fantasised about it before and whatnot, but I've never felt comfortable enough with anyone to be that close with them. Even my girlfriend, she was constantly pushing and wanting more but I never felt okay with letting myself go that far with her. And the idea of sleeping with someone for just one night has always felt wrong to me.”

He lifted his face and met Regulus' eyes. “Does that make me weird? Like, am I some massive sap because I want losing my virginity to be important in some way?”

Regulus bent down and kissed Harry softly but firmly, pressing their lips together chastely as he enjoyed the simple warmth of the other man. He pulled back after a few moments and cupped Harry's cheeks in his pale hands, brushing his thumbs across the smaller man's face.

“No, you're not weird. Just because you're a man doesn't mean you can't wish for your first time to have meaning. Some people don't think of it as important, while others hope for it to be a special experience. You being male doesn't affect that. To be frank, the only reason I already lost my virginity was because I wanted to have at least one aspect of my life to be decided by me. I understand it isn't the most proper behaviour, but I wanted my virginity to be a decision made by me rather than my family.”

He watched as a flash of jealousy shone in Harry's eyes at the mention of him not being untouched and he had to hold himself in check before he ended up smirking in the other man's face. It made him feel incredibly smug that Harry felt possessive enough of him to find the idea of his past relationships to be distasteful. It boded well for his future plans, after all.

_Speaking of future plans …_

Regulus looked down at the man beneath him and smirked, enjoying the sudden wariness on Harry's face. “And concerning your worries about your identity, it's simple. We'll just have an older Potter adopt you.”

“What?!”

The bewildered shout was rather entertaining and he suddenly understood why Harry enjoyed messing with people so much.

_Two can play at that game._

* * *

“This is a terrible idea.”

“It really isn't.”

“We can't really just casually announce that time travel is a thing, can we?”

“You did when you told me.”

“That doesn't count, I thought I was dead!”

Regulus just levelled a flat look at him and Harry rolled his eyes, though he conceded this was probably the best plan they had for getting him a new identity. He could of course try his luck with an inheritance test and see if some other family name he could claim popped up, but the chance of the goblins snitching on him were too high to ignore. There was always the idea that he could just change his appearance and adopt an entirely new names and try and pass himself off as a muggle-born, though Regulus had looked very disapproving of that idea for some reason. Which apparently left getting him adopted into the Potter family.

By asking Charlus Potter to help them.

The man in question was the husband to Dorea Potter nee Black, and was apparently something of a free spirit who'd spent nearly his entire life after Hogwarts travelling around the world without hardly ever returning to Britain. Not much was known about the man's life except that he wrote for a living and was something of an eccentric, refusing to place nice and socialise with the rest of high-society Britain.

The only reason that the House of Black had agreed to let Dorea marry him was because she'd been nowhere near the line of succession, and also because Fleamont Potter had been alive to keep his cousin in check. Of course Fleamont hadn't given two shits about controlling Charlus, and had cheerfully waved off the happy couple as they went gallivanting around the globe to the general consternation of the Blacks.

That had been ten years ago and the happy couple had briefly returned to Britain for the time being. Their son was only two years old at the moment and the family of three was happily ignoring the existence of Dorea's family while enjoying a brief reprieve from wherever they'd been for the past few years.

Harry knew that the couple and their son had originally been murdered sometime this year but didn't know when. He'd said as much to Regulus, worried about his relatives – as much as he didn't know them – getting killed in a pointless war. It was also beyond nauseating to think that a toddler of two had been murdered for no apparent reason. Voldemort might have come after his one-year-old self but he'd survived; the knowledge that other babies hadn't was sickening.

Regulus had looked grim at the revelation but told him they'd figure something out. Considering they were about to drop the bomb that time travel was a legitimate thing, Harry guessed they weren't going to be holding anything back from this conversation.

His companion had apparently kept in contact with Dorea seeing as the woman was his godmother, and the woman had taken her role very seriously. (Dorea was also both his great-aunt and first cousin twice removed thanks to his parents' incestuous marriage – which was _such_ a charming thought.) She was supposedly very open for a Black and would be very useful in helping them get Harry a new life.

“Are you sure they'll help?”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

… _Reticent bastard._

* * *

“I know I've shagged a lot of women in my time but I'm pretty sure I would have noticed someone like you popping out of thin air.”

Harry blinked rapidly at the words, trying to figure out if he was hearing things or if Charlus Potter really had just said something so blunt.

Regulus had more or less dragged him via Side-Along Apparition to a small village just outside of Cardiff, a tiny little place full of single mismatched buildings that looked like a cross between Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. It was certainly quaint, with thatched roofs, cobbled streets and the distinct hum of magic in the air. It was apparently like Godric's Hollow with how it catered to a mixed muggle and magical population, and Harry thought it was very homey.

A short ten minute walk away was a small manor house where Charlus and Dorea Potter lived. The property had been purchased by the free-spirited Potter straight out of Hogwarts about five decades ago, though his travelling had meant it had barely been lived in for a scare few years scattered over the man's life.

The two had been let in by an enthusiastic house-elf called Tolly and had walked through the warm hallway to meet the older Potter couple. The house was most definitely a home in a way that Grimmauld Place had never been, full of warm colours, large airy windows, and personal items all around. There were numerous pictures of the couple and their loved ones adorning the walls, and only god knows how many random ornaments which looked to have come from all over the world. The house was probably the most inviting one that Harry had ever seen, and that included The Burrow.

After being led to a sitting room, Tolly had brought them some tea and biscuits while she went to find her masters, and Harry had sat nervously on the sofa nibbling a digestive as he'd tried to think about how to get the older man to help. Regulus' hand on his thigh had been both quietly reassuring and enormously distracting, and the sight of Charlus and Dorea Potter strolling in had made his mind go blank. He'd gone to introduce himself before the older man had opened his mind and shocked Harry with his blunt attitude.

_Is this what people think of me when I say something like that?_

Harry suddenly understood why he'd gotten so many strange looks over the years, though he honestly found it more hilarious than anything. So he started laughing hysterically.

He really couldn't help it. He'd come to this house expecting an uphill battle with some serious man – a man close to seventy – and instead he'd gotten someone who didn't give two shits what anyone thought of them and refused to censor himself at all. Harry quite liked him.

The green-eyed man had a hand pressed to his mouth as he tried to stifle the cackling, and his stomach was starting to ache from laughing so hard. A series of loud thuds caught his attention and he lifted his head to see Dorea Potter whacking her husband over the head with a hardback book repeatedly with an irritated expression on her face, said victim flailing his arms around trying to jab his wife in the ribs, and Regulus to the side pinching the bridge of his nose.

_This could work._

He cleared his throat and wiped his tears. “I'm pretty sure there are a few reasons you've never seen me before, not least of which is that I was born in nineteen-eighty.”

The couple stopped their – apparently routine – violent exchange and looked at him incredulously before Charlus grinned at him a little madly. (Apparently he wasn't the only questionable Potter around. _Good to know_.)

“If I didn't know any better I'd say you were talking about time travel.”

“I am,” Harry replied dryly, not seeing the point in trying to lead into things slowly with these people. He had a feeling they wouldn't care about him getting straight to the point. “Long story short, I ended up inheriting the Black family in the future, tried to clean out the attic at Grimmauld Place, smashed some dodgy artefacts and blacked out, and woke up tied to a chair with Regulus questioning me.”

For a few moments there was silence before the woman of the household sighed, looking strangely unsurprised and directed them all to sit down around the low table with the snacks. After everyone getting comfortable, Harry silently basking in the encouraging smile from Regulus, they resumed the explanation.

Dorea scowled. “That bloody attic's full of dangerous crap. Why didn't anyone warn you about it?”

 _How to explain?_ “I never really knew that much about the Black family. I inherited it from my godfather – from Sirius – as he got it after everyone else died. I grew up with muggles you see, and I never learnt about magic at all, not getting any education on Houses or inheritances or anything until I graduated.

“This war that we're in now, it more or less ended after Voldy getting killed about two years from now, but he was resurrected thirteen years after that and everything went to shit again.”

He spent the better part of an hour explaining all the shitty details, even reluctantly explaining the fate of their little family and warning them to protect themselves. He told them what had happened with Voldemort from now until the time he'd come from, the craziness of the war, even some bits and pieces from his childhood that elicited a nasty glint in the eyes of the people around him. Dorea and Regulus looked very much like family with familiar looks promising vengeance in their silver eyes, while the pale blue orbs of Charlus looked to be like ice, though considering the man's mother was a Malfoy he supposed it might not be too much of a stretch to say he could be vindictive.

Dorea huffed and took a sip of tea. “I'm surprised you haven't changed anything already.”

Harry averted his eyes from the woman's suspicious look and heard Regulus gently clearing his throat. _This should be good._

“We have changed things. Drastically, in fact. The moment that Harry originally appeared I had been set to carry out a self-appointed task that I knew was dangerous. Harry subsequently informed me that said plan had actually ended in my death in the future.”

Regulus paused and looked to be trying not to fidget under the furious glare of his godmother. Apparently the knowledge he could have died didn't impress the woman at all, though the younger Black valiantly carried on with his explanation.

“In the past few days we've destroyed all of the Horcruxes, actually killed the Dark Lord, and had several of the most dangerous Death Eaters arrested.

“And Harry removed my Dark Mark because he's a Parselmouth, and told me that Mother's been poisoning Father for the past two decades so he didn't actually get married willingly.”

Dorea stared at duo incredulously before shouting, “I _knew_ something up was with that marriage, Orion was never that fucked up in the head!”

Charlus took one look at his wife and started snorting, a hand splayed across his face as he – for some reason – found immense amusement at his wife's terrifying fury. _What a weird man._

“Anyway,” Regulus cut in, “another reason we came here was to ask for your help, Charlus.”

The man in question looked at them bemused. “How can I help?”

“Exactly how averse are you to claiming to have fathered Harry and adopting him?”

The sudden silence in the room was deafening, and Harry could feel the urge to flee the entire situation rising quickly. This was so awkward. Why on earth had they come here? To help Harry settle? Did it really matter if he was known as a Potter? Granted it might make some things easier, but this was just _painful_. This was a mistake, he should –

“Why not.”

Harry looked up at the man, shocked beyond words. “What?”

Charlus shrugged at him. “It's not actually too much of a stretch. I mean, Dorea and I have only been married for nine years, and like I said earlier I have been around a bit. To be honest it wouldn't surprise me if I _did_ have a kid hidden somewhere. Granted being a bastard might prove problematic, but whatever.”

“Charlus,” Dorea groaned, reprimanding her husband.

“How old are you anyway?” asked Charlus with narrowed eyes, suddenly looking at Harry with a calculating expression.

“I'll be nineteen on the thirty-first.”

The older man smirked like a cat that got the canary and Harry felt nervous all of a sudden.

“That works. I can just say you're from my first marriage.”

… _What._

“You were married before?!”

Even Regulus looked shocked at the knowledge, and Harry took some comfort in the fact that he wasn't the only one getting caught off guard.

“Yeah, she was kind of a bitch,” the man mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I only married her after her father caught us together in her room and threatened to cause a massive stink if I didn't take responsibility by marrying her. Though our marriage only lasted two years 'cause she was an idiot and blew up a potion on herself and died.

“Her mum died during her childhood, and her dad died a few months into the marriage. Neither of them had any family left and we didn't really know anyone around that time. Your age actually fits right in the middle of said marriage, so we'd just need to do an adoption ritual using some blood from each of us and it would be good to go.”

Harry eyed Charlus weirdly. “The woman's _dead_. How are you going to get blood for a ritual?”

“Ah, well, I actually made sure to get some before she croaked it. I had a feeling I might need to legitimise a kid one day,” he revealed as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Okay, ignoring the fact that you apparently made allowances for your own promiscuity, will this actually work? Will Harry show up as your son on inheritance tests?”

Dorea sniffed disdainfully at her godson's words. “Of course it will, people have been doing things like this for centuries. Besides, the ritual came from the Black library and I'll be the one conducting it. You don't think I'll fail, do you?”

“Of course I don't Aunt Dorea, I have the utmost faith in your abilities.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Brat.”

“So when do you want to do this?”

Charlus' words cut through the room and the four people looked around at each other questioningly. Harry turned back to the other Potter and shrugged. “Whenever you want.”

The man grinned. “How about now? Then you can meet your new baby brother in time for dinner!”

Harry wondered if signing up to join this family was going to destroy his sanity.

… _Nah. You can't destroy what's not there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Firstly, sorry about notes on the previous chapter, they weren't very straightforward. This story is NOT finished yet, there are still a few chapters to go, but I was just trying to get an idea of what people thought about a potential sequel in the future. On the second to last chapter I will let you know the story's finishing.
> 
> Next: discussing sex. As much as I enjoy fics where characters fall into bed almost immediately - I would be a hypocrite of the highest degree if I denied it going by what I both read and write - normal relationships requite communication concerning sexual intimacy. Harry being a man doesn't change this. It isn't because he's supposed to be the more 'submissive' or whatever of the two, it's because he has his own views on these things. Sorry if people wanted an explicit scene after they had sex immediately, but just because Harry's kind of jaded doesn't mean he doesn't care about doing things at his own pace. Same with Regulus.
> 
> Lastly, the only reason Charlus is here is to help Harry get a new identity. I was originally going to create a Potter OC before I realised this is fanfiction, and if I want certain characters to be alive when they canonically weren't, then I can make it so they are. (This was mostly for Dorea.)
> 
> Sorry for the long notes. Let me know what you think :)
> 
> See ya!


	9. I think we skipped a few steps. Oh well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'
> 
> I've actually borrowed a few elements from my story 'Time Travel? Really!' for this fic, just small things like manors and whatnot. I honestly couldn't be bothered making up something new when I could just do it this way :)

“Well, there you are.”

“This is so fucked up.”

“You're telling me. Though to be honest I've experienced some shit in my time.”

“I can imagine.”

Charlus and Harry Potter were currently stood together in The Pottery, the ancestral manor of the Potter family. The three-story building was unusually tasteful for a pure-blood manor, but the Potters had never been all that ostentatious compared to others. The home hadn't even been lived in for decades. The rather small Potter family had never seen the point in staying in a massive manor with tens of bedrooms when the family had never had more than a few members alive at any one point.

The main branch of the family, where James, Fleamont and Henry were from, had been living in the cottage in Godric's Hollow since the nineteenth century, and Charlus' parents had had their own house in London. Despite the manor having been vacant for far too long it was well-maintained, the few house-elves of the Potter family still cleaning and caring for the building as was their job.

Another bonus was that Charlus still had access to the manor and so did Harry. The wards were currently set to allow anyone with Potter blood and magic access, though nobody else could get in. Which also included Potter spouses. Charlus had made an errant comment about sending James an owl to update the wards.

The new father and son – which was a _really_ weird thing to think about – had Apparated over to the manor and made their way to the top floor which was designated as the 'family' floor. Aside from a small kitchen, bathroom and the various bedrooms, there was also a study and library. The study had been their destination, the room historically having been used by the Head of the family. On the wall rested the incredibly valuable family tapestry that had been used for centuries upon centuries. The hanging heirloom was imbued with magic that self-updated whenever a Potter was born, legitimate or not.

Luckily enough there hadn't been a bastard born for at least three centuries, and when Charlus had seen no other unknown branches from his name he'd fervently thanked all sorts of deities at not having any more kids. Though he'd been smug at seeing the new branch that they'd hoped to be there leading from him and his past wife.

Hadrian Felix Potter.

Harry thought it was bloody weird to actually have a new name, but Dorea had asked him if he wanted a new name for his new life and the idea had struck a chord with him. He didn't _have_ to carry on as Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, defeater of Voldemort, and whatever other crappy title the wizarding world had stuck him with. He could be someone entirely new with absolutely no expectations, and he'd jumped at the chance.

There had of course been the fact that he would still react to the name 'Harry' so they'd needed to find a new name that could have Harry as a nickname. Dorea had simply opened her mouth and suggested Hadrian with a glint in her silver eyes that just dared anyone to challenge her. None of the men had been able to bring themselves to go against the woman, so the discussion had been over before it even began, and thus 'Hadrian' was chosen. The middle name came from Charlus' brother who'd died before Charlus had even been born, so it would still bear a familial connection to the Potters.

A quick and slightly painful adoption ritual later, Hadrian Felix Potter became the son of Charlus Harold Potter and Charlotte Emily Hunter. Because the ritual was designed to complete rewrite someone's genealogy it would stranger if it didn't hurt. Harry had initially been rather wary of what he'd end up looking like, especially with his new relationship – _is it a relationship?_ – with Regulus.

Though apparently the worrying hadn't been needed as he still looked more or less the exact same for some reason. Charlus had cheerfully explained that his own father and Charlotte had both had green eyes so he hadn't lost his favourite feature, the Potter hair was impossible to ditch, and his body had still suffered malnutrition so hadn't gotten any taller. His skin had managed to get even paler, no doubt thanks to Charlus' Malfoy mother – _oh God, I have Malfoy blood now_ – and his face had somehow become even more androgynous. His lips were a little fuller, his face less angular with a small chin, and his eyes were a little wider. He'd probably look like a woman if he had long hair. Though the way that Regulus' eyes had darkened at seeing him made his thoughts switch from self-depreciating to smug.

So now Harry was a legitimate member of the House of Potter in nineteen seventy-nine, and he had no fucking clue what to do.

“You alright there?”

He turned to see Charlus' blue eyes boring into his, and Harry felt very wrong-footed seeing such a serious expression on a man who'd nonchalantly confessed to shagging his way across America.

“I'm fine, just … trying to figure out what to do now. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with my life.”

“You mean other than shag Regulus?”

Harry choked and he could feel his face heat up, no doubt a deep red on his face judging from the older man's deep laugh.

“You bastard,” he hissed.

“Bloody hell! That face was great!” Charlus laughed. After a few moments he managed to calm down and looked at him with a grin. “But seriously, just do whatever you feel like. Who cares what anyone thinks? What were you doing before you ended up here?”

“Not much,” Harry muttered. “After the war everyone thought I should become an Auror like my father and get married and have a bunch of kids. Nobody really asked me what I wanted.”

Charlus frowned. “Well, fuck them. They're not here now and you can do what you want. If you want to work at the Ministry, do it. If you want to teach, go for it. Hell, if you just want to get married and have kids instead of a so-called 'proper' job, then you should do it. Fuck what anyone else says.”

Harry bit his lip as he wondered about the man standing next to him. Would he answer Harry properly? Give him a proper answer without sugar-coating his words?

“Do – do you think there's anything wrong with that? Just marrying and having kids? I mean, I told you what my childhood was like. The only thing I've ever really wanted was my own family.”

The other man's eyes softened. “Harry. There's nothing wrong with wanting a simple life. You can have what you want regardless of what anyone tells you. Besides, there's nothing to stop you from having kids then doing something after they grow up. You don't necessarily have to choose between them, just do what you want _when_ you want.”

Charlus was quite kind when he wanted to be. The younger Potter flashed the man a small smile. “Thank you.”

“It's fine,” Charlus replied before smirking at him. _Oh shit._

“So about you and Regulus ...”

_I take it back. This man's a fucking arsehole._

* * *

“Regulus, just spit it out. What are you thinking?”

The Black looked at his godmother-slash-cousin-slash-aunt warily, knowing full well that particular glint in her eyes meant Dorea would be getting what she wanted, it was just a question of how she would get it. It would probably be less effort if he simply complied now rather than expending energy trying to divert her attention.

“Exactly how inappropriate would it be to initiate a courtship after less than a week of knowing someone?”

Dorea looked at him blankly for a moment before smirking at him in a manner much too reminiscent of her insane husband. _They deserve each other. Totally mad, those two._

“So I was right, you two _are_ together. I must say I look forward to your future children, they'll be beautiful. I say screw it, do what you want. Some might find it more than a little weird but the two of you click well. You make a lovely couple.”

Despite her teasing tone Regulus appreciated the woman's candid words. He knew it would be seen as hasty, but he could honestly say he wanted the other man so he didn't see the point in waiting. Why should he drag out what he already knew was going to happen? He'd already had Harry's feelings confirmed too, so it wasn't as if he was unsure about the future of his plans. It was simply a matter of when.

“There's something about the Potters, isn't there?”

He could do without the salacious grin directed his way, though. He snorted and rolled his eyes at her insinuations, even if he was mentally agreeing with her.

“It's a shame that the decent personality skipped over James. School would have been nicer without his idiocy.”

Dorea scowled at the mention of her family's supposed 'Lord'. “I have no bloody clue how he ended up like that. A _bully_? Fleamont's probably rolling in his grave at the knowledge. If he'd been told what was happening I can guarantee it wouldn't have carried on. James probably would have been pulled from Hogwarts as punishment.

“I am sorry about that. If I'd known what was happening with him and Sirius I would have done something. I don't know how they ended up like that.”

Regulus waved her off. “There's no blame to be placed with you. Besides, they've just come face-to-face with the reality that not all Gryffindors are perfect, their friends and themselves even less so.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

The man went on to explain about Pettigrew being a Death Eater and how his brother and James had found him after he and Harry had delivered them to the Aurors. Then of course about Sirius questioning him about being a Death Eater himself. Regulus smugly told the woman about Harry's defence of him to Sirius and how his arrogant brother had been more or shocked into silence at being questioned in such a way.

Silver eyes widened before his aunt started cackling. “Brilliant! Serves the little shit right! After becoming a prejudiced little bully he deserves some payback! You _have_ to let me see those memories!”

He went to open his mouth before he heard footsteps and he and Dorea looked up to see Charlus and Harry walk in together laughing and grinning. They really did look like father and son now, with the same pale skin, a similar shape around the brows and identical smiles. It was heart-warming to see Harry look so happy and unburdened, smiling instead of frowning at his past.

It was also nice to see him looking even more tempting.

Harry's new looks had sent his thoughts spiralling into the gutter, and it was only through sheer force of will that he hadn't dragged the smaller man off somewhere to snog him senseless. Harry was now fairer than even Regulus, with slightly wider eyes that gave him an innocent air that was unfairly enticing. Not to mention the slightly plumper lips that weren't helping Regulus' control.

“Hi.”

He looked up to see the very object of his thoughts looking down at him with a small smile playing across his lips and a carefree look in his bright green eyes. The Black rose to his feet and walked over to Harry.

“How did it go?”

“Everything's good,” Charlus announced with a grin. “I currently have two sons named Hadrian and Marcus, I have no illegitimate children – thank fuck for that – and the only Potters alive are this family plus James and his wife. Harry can now do whatever he wants without anyone wondering where he came from.”

Dorea turned to them. “Marcus has been sick all day but he should be getting up soon. Do you want to meet your new brother?”

Harry looked rather shocked at genuinely being included in the family and Regulus subtly squeezed his arm. Hopefully the smaller man would understand he had a proper family now.

“Um, sure. Just a quick thought, have you thought about protections for this place? I still can't remember the date when things went bad. I mean, Voldemort's dead and the worst of the Death Eaters have been rounded up, but I don't know who was responsible last time.”

His nervous look prompted frowns on the Potter couple and Charlus swore under his breath. Regulus could sympathise with the couple. Knowing that you were at risk, that your _baby_ was at risk, was a horrid situation to be in and there wasn't a lot they could do. All of them had agreed that James and Lily hiding under the Fidelius Charm had been rather stupid, especially as they'd used someone else as their Secret Keeper instead of doing it themselves. It was supposedly more difficult to do it yourself but it could be done. Regulus had a feeling they'd done it the way they had so that they could still be in contact with their friends, which he thought was incredibly selfish. Not that he was surprised considering they'd stayed in the bloody country when their only child was at risk from a Dark Lord. They'd chosen to stay instead of making sure their son grew up safe. _Selfish pricks._

Regulus looked up to see Charlus grumbling and walking out the door, Dorea watching him with a frown. He turned to Harry. “Where's he going?”

“To see James. He's basically going to drag him off to sort out The Pottery's wards so Dorea can stay there too.”

“Good luck to him,” he replied dryly. James Potter was a pain in the arse on a good day, not to mention he didn't think the arrogant twat had even donned his Lord ring yet. To take control of a family ancestral manor you had to be the Head of the family. Other houses were controlled by whoever owned them specifically, like Grimmauld Place and his father.

Harry bit his lip and looked at Regulus. “Do you think I'm being paranoid?”

“No. You know these people were murdered sometime this year, meaning it's no stretch of the imagination to think it could happen at any time. The remaining Death Eaters are probably running around like chickens with their heads cut off at the moment, as well. It's not too much of a stretch to think they might do something stupid, and Charlus and Dorea might already be targets.”

Regulus was more than aware that the danger was very real for his aunt and her husband. The Potters were universally known to be powerful despite their low numbers, and they were always incredibly stubborn. They'd never followed any Dark Lords because of their refusal to bow down to others. (The Blacks were usually the same, but the last couple of generations of their family had spawned some truly fucked-up individuals.)

Charlus was well-known to live by own rules, and Dorea was a Black that had married into a traditionally light family (despite her husband definitely _not_ being light), and she was considered to be something of a traitor by many. The only reason she'd been allowed to marry Charlus had been because Regulus' grandfather Arcturus had known just how not-light the Potter truly was.

The two of them – and by extension their son – were viable targets for the insane Death Eaters and would continue to be so while the murderers remained at large. Harry was _not_ being paranoid in the slightest.

“Dorea?”

Harry's questioning voice caught his attention along with the woman of the house, and they both turned to look at the Potter in unison.

“Harry?”

“Do you mind if I put up some protective spells around the property? I don't want to be presumptuous but I just want to make sure we'll know if something happens. I spent what would have been my seventh year on the run and living in a tent, so I had to learn quite a few different wards and whatnot.”

The woman eyed Harry weirdly. “You lived in a _tent_?”

Harry shrugged. “I was one of the most wanted criminals in Britain at the time. In hindsight I probably could have avoided living in a tent, but back then I was pretty clueless and panicked. Not the best combination.”

Dorea just sighed and smiled at Harry. “If it makes you feel better go ahead. I'm going to check on Marcus.”

She walked out the room and Regulus took a moment to appreciate the silence. And the view of Harry, of course.

“Do you want to come with me?”

He looked down to see big green eyes looking up at him, the glowing colour incredibly distracting.

Regulus smiled. “Of course.”

As if he'd pass up an opportunity to spend time with Harry.

_And this way I can admire the view._

* * *

Harry walked down Diagon Alley with Regulus enjoying the remnants of the setting sun, all the while trying ignore the staring and gawking from the alley's various patrons.

He'd hoped that he would be able to avoid being the unwanted subject of the public's curiosity in this time period, though he supposed it was slightly better seeing as they didn't actually know who he was. Their interest wasn't because of him surviving a curse that had no defence or because he'd killed Voldemort, rather it was because he was so obviously a relative of James Potter but he was a complete unknown.

People kept glancing over him before doing a double take and looking baffled. It was pretty hilarious, especially when one bloke tripped over and face-planted on the ground. He resolved to ignore the usual idiots and stick close to Regulus.

His companion had already taken him to Twilfitt and Tattings to get some new clothes, and Harry had spent quite a bit on various bits and pieces that he didn't really need but Regulus kept telling him to add to the pile. (Though he hadn't even made a dent in the funds he actually had on him. He didn't think the other man would be too pleased with Harry when he realised what he'd been carrying round on him for the past week. The goblins hadn't exactly been happy with him after the war, and he'd quickly cleaned out most of the Potter and Black vaults before the money was lost for good.)

They were now headed towards some restaurant that was probably much too posh for someone like Harry, but thankfully meal etiquette was something that Andromeda had managed to beat into him before his accidental trip through time. He just hoped they'd have some privacy so if he fucked up it wouldn't be in front of too many people.

“We're here.”

He blinked and looked up startled, realising he had no clue where they were and that Regulus had more or less dragged him who knows where without him even noticing. He was chivvied into some restaurant without having time to check the name of the place, and he watched a quick conversation between Regulus and an employee before the two of them were directed to a table tucked away in a corner hidden by some covertly-placed plants. _Thank fuck for that._

Soon enough their table was covered by numerous dishes chosen by the other man, and Harry found it very enjoyable to sit down and have a proper meal with Regulus without worrying about someone stumbling across him and questioning where he'd come from. With Charlus' help he was now a fully-fledged member of the House of Potter, a pure-blood even, and he didn't have to hide behind the extensive wards of Grimmauld Place anymore. He spared a moment to wonder what was happening with Walburga now. She couldn't still be alive, could she?

After the food he noticed Regulus surreptitiously cast some privacy spells and he frowned with worry. “Regulus? What's wrong?”

“There's nothing … wrong, per se, I just wished to ask you a question without anyone overhearing.”

Harry nodded slowly even though the man's anxious behaviour wasn't doing much to reassure him. Regulus Black wasn't a person unsure of himself, and him looking like he wanted to fidget from nerves was more than a little worrying.

“Okay. So what's up?”

Regulus cleared his throat. “Perhaps it would be best to show you rather than ask.”

He reached down towards his pocket and pulled out a shrunken package of some sorts before resizing it with a quick tap of his wand. At soon as the box was full-sized Harry drew in a sharp breath and froze in his seat. He knew what that was.

Sat on the table in front of him was a flat leather box, black with silver embossing around the edges. He could see some sort of crest on top though it was currently obscured by the ribbon; he'd bet he knew what that crest was. The ribbon was the softest-looking silk he'd ever seen, a pure white colour decorated with what looked to be genuine gold thread. The gold went up the full length of the ribbon, sewn in several different runes which more than likely spelt out protections.

It was a courting gift.

There were many different ways to offer a courting request, especially as there were different things to offer. The colour of the ribbon was used to declare intentions, and the object inside the box would indicate how the person petitioning for a courtship saw the person they were asking. A single piece of jewellery that didn't have a matching piece for the petitioner usually indicated a clear hierarchy in the relationship, the one giving the jewellery saying they were in control. More preferable, and more romantic, was a matching set that both members wore, indicating an equal relationship that indicated belonging to one another.

The box in front of Harry was decorated in a white ribbon with gold threads, and if he remembered correctly that meant pure romantic intentions with a hope of marriage in the future. He took a deep breath and lifted slightly shaking fingers to the ribbon, slowly unwrapping it from the box to reveal the Black crest as he'd thought. (The House crests were used to display a clear request to join said House.)

He pulled the ribbon from the box and folded it carefully to the side, tying to ignore the blood rushing in his ears as he slowly opened the lid of the box. And promptly felt his eyes widen. _Oh my God._

Inside was a silver bracelet decorated with both delicately carved runes and alternating green and grey gems around the entire bracelet. He thought the green gemstones were emeralds but he wasn't too sure about the grey. Not that he was too concerned about what was on the bloody thing, he was much too concerned about what looked to be thousands of galleons sat in front of him. And of course, that this was a courting request from Regulus.

He lifted his head and met silver eyes, belatedly noticing the grey gems matched the other man's eyes exactly. _Is this supposed to represent us?_

“Regulus? Are you – I mean, is this real?”

He knew his question could have a few different meanings but he had enough trouble getting those few words out around the choked feeling in his throat. Harry had never been the best at articulating himself in emotional situations.

The other man kept silent but raised his hands and pulled back the sleeve on his left arm. There on the pale wrist was an exact replica of what Harry held in the box. Harry felt his breath catch at the intense look in the molten eyes and he lowered his face back to the bracelet contemplating his next actions.

He might not have ever been the traditional Gryffindor but he certainly had his headstrong moments. Ever since ending up in the past he hadn't exactly done things precisely and logically, and caution had been thrown to the wind too many times to count. Killing Voldemort, getting adopted, kissing Regulus …

Harry remembered the feel of the Black's lips on his and he wanted that again. Always. For once he wanted to be selfish.

“ _Fuck them.”_ Maybe Charlus was on to something.

He put the box on the table and slid it towards Regulus. Before he could think the worst Harry held out his left arm.

“Help me put it on?”

Grey eyes lit up and Harry felt blown away by the sheer joy on Regulus' face. The man gently picked up the bracelet and fastened the clasp around Harry's pale wrist. As soon as it was set the runes on both bracelets lit up and glowed before settling to white. (If either one of them betrayed the other the runes would turn black which was of course incredibly shameful, especially as they couldn't be taken off for a while after.)

Harry looked up to say something before being cut off by Regulus' lips. He grinned into the kiss and pulled the man closer.

_We'll be fine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> In case you can't tell, this story is indeed coming to an end soon. There will be a double update next week, a regular chapter and an extra one with reactions from other characters (I couldn't figure out where else to put it in the story because it'll be more serious than the others and a little erratic), and then an epilogue the week after. So there's two weeks left after this. 
> 
> But I have decided to do a sequel!!! It won't be as regular, and the chapters won't really have an over-arching story, but rather random oneshots in this universe. Basically just snapshots of Regulus and Harry's lives together. I'll make sure to update this when it happens, but I'll leave a reminder on the epilogue in a couple of weeks as well.
> 
> Also, I now have a deviantart. My username is anime-otaku20 over there, and I'm using it to display things like family trees and bits of art if I decide to. (Fair warning, I can't draw very well, and I don't have the resources to do digital art.) There's now a Potter family tree up for this fic, so check it out if you want.
> 
> Until next time!


	10. Interlude: Through another's eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'
> 
> Warning: this chapter is not the same as the previous lighthearted chapters, and has a more serious tone

He looked down at the still instrument and he pondered.

Tom had always been a massive threat to their world, was always going to cause untold mayhem and anarchy for their society. He was going to be a monumental threat that was going to take years upon years to destroy.

Except he was now supposedly dead and gone.

Albus Dumbledore looked down at the spindly silver that had casually moved and puffed to the rhythm of Tom's life for the past few decades. This small but innocuous ornament had kept him apprised of the state of Britain's biggest threat since Gellert, but a few days ago it suddenly stopped moving and tipped over, laying still and refusing to move anymore.

An emergency session of the Wizengamot had brought to him the knowledge that the worst of Tom's followers were awaiting trials, and the use of Veritaserum had revealed they were truly corrupted by Tom, and his colleagues were also in need of saving if their suggestion to use the Kiss was any indication.

So many souls lost for good that just needed a guiding hand and a second chance, lost to the heavy-handedness of the Ministry. Didn't they realise those arrested were victims just as much as those dead and buried? They just needed a chance to prove they could change.

Except they'd all been Kissed.

Seeing Lord Black there had certainly been a surprise. Arcturus Black usually left the running of things in the Wizengamot to his cousin Pollux, but the younger Black had been sat in the visitors' gallery as the Lord of his family used his sly words to bring everyone else around to his point of view and push for those poor souls to be lost forever.

It was truly sad, Albus mourned. Arcturus Black had been especially adamant that his young niece Bellatrix be Kissed, and he still couldn't understand how someone could be so determined to rid themselves of their own family.

(Albus Dumbledore had always been good at seeing what he wanted, and his past actions towards his own siblings were wrapped tightly in a rose-coloured film.)

That didn't even get into the fact that Tom's body had been recovered and was being held somewhere he didn't have access. He didn't understand the Department of Mysteries; he was Albus Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and the former teacher of Tom himself. Granted, nobody knew that Lord Voldemort was Tom Riddle, but was beside the point. It should be obvious that he didn't want to see the body for any nefarious reason.

Tom was a dangerous and deadly person. There was no way he'd be taken out so easily and without fanfare. Tom was someone who would go down fighting, loud and in a sea of destruction. He had no doubt that Tom had dabbled in some terrible dark magic that had worked to keep him alive. When he'd come to the school to apply for a job he'd looked so ill; he had to have done something to look like that.

Not that the Unspeakables seemed to believe him. They wouldn't let him investigate, and it was annoying to know that nobody seemed to believe him about Tom. Horace might have, but his Potions professor had vanished off the face of the earth and he couldn't find him. He knew that the other man probably knew something, but speculating over nothing wouldn't lead anywhere.

He sighed and looked down at the spindly instrument, picking it up and pulling it up to eye level to examine it. Had the spell he cast been overcome somehow? Had Tom managed to fool it? He couldn't help but imagine his former student going to ground, biding his time and waiting for the right time to cause terror and panic once more.

Their world was celebrating and enjoying what they thought of as freedom – he'd even read in the paper that young Regulus Black was courting a Potter cousin; a nice boy from a light family would only be good for him – but he knew that it was just a trick.

Tom was a true threat to their world and a powerful wizard that would never be taken out in such a mysterious and lacklustre manner. Albus would have to continue studying and researching for when Tom returned.

He looked at the instrument and he pondered.

* * *

James lifted the whiskey bottle to take a swig before he realised there were only a few mouthfuls left, so downed the rest and slammed the bottle on the table harder than was probably necessary, but at this point he didn't give a shit.

He wondered when it was that everything had gone so wrong.

His parents dying from bloody Dragon Pox months ago – he didn't care that they were older than usual parents, they were still too young to die – to being in a war straight out of school, life certainly wasn't as fun as he'd expected in school.

Wormtail was a Death Eater.

His friend – was he a friend? – had willingly killed and tortured people, thought that he deserved to be recognised for once, had thought that he, Padfoot and Moony were stuck-up arseholes, had despised them for being popular. He'd called James a privileged arsehole that didn't realise he was a bully.

Was he a bully?

He'd always thought that his pranks were funny and entertaining, then his uncle-slash-cousin Charlus had appeared at just the wrong time and completely torn his certainty apart.

_"You hung someone upside down in public and removed their underwear. Don't look at me like that you little shit, I know a hell of a lot more than you think. Think about this: if that had been a girl it would have been sexual assault, but because it was a boy it was funny?_

_"You're a hypocritical and prejudiced little bastard, and your father's probably rolling in his grave at what his son turned into. Did you know that Fleamont had quite the reputation of ending up in detention for going after people like you. He'd be so disappointed at what you've ended up like._

_"Look, just sort out the fucking wards, and we won't have to talk anymore. If I were you though, I'd start actually using that thing called a fucking brain. Considering your oh-so-perfect Gryffindor friend was actually a murdering bastard, clearly the House of lions isn't the epitome of good. Why don't you sit down and think about how the school Houses don't mean jack shit in the real world._

_"For Merlin's sake James, grow the fuck up."_

Uncle Charlus was a father. Twice over, in fact.

He had a son the same age as James, but he'd never introduced them because he thought – _he knew, don't lie James, you would have treated him like shit_ – that James would have reacted badly because Charlus' mother was a Malfoy Slytherin.

He had an adult son, and his son – Hadrian, his name was Hadrian Potter, they were _cousins_ – was in a courtship with Regulus Black. Sirius' younger brother, the brother that had been a stereotypical Slytherin, a proper little Black, an associate of the Death Eaters, the one most likely to sign up to join the crazy Dark Lord.

The one who didn't have a Dark Mark.

James closed his eyes and tilted his head back. How much had he assumed based off of initial assumptions? He wasn't stupid by any stretch of the imagination, so what had happened? When did he start to equate all Slytherins to evil?

Snivellous.

Sni- _Snape_ – that was part of the problem, wasn't it? He clung to childish rivalries with such fervour – had been close to Lily, and he'd seen him as the obstacle to the girl he wanted. Fucking hell, he'd cast them all in stupidly childish roles in some bloody fairy-tale; Lily was the princess he had to win, Snape was the evil dragon in the way, and James was the hero that had to win the girl.

Fuck, he was an _idiot_.

He'd ran with the idea that Snape was evil, that just because some of the Slytherins were horrible – not all of them, Andromeda Black married a _muggle-born_ , for Merlin's sake – and cast them all as the bad guys.

James thought about all the pranks he'd ever pulled and felt his heart sink. He might be married to Lily now, but he could clearly remember her looks of fury and disgust at his antics. He'd arrogantly thought that she just didn't want to admit to finding it funny, but she'd been truly disgusted with him, hadn't she?

Why were they married?

He thought about that time with Snape and his underwear, and he thought about that happening to a child of his, his son or daughter hanging there helpless as someone laughed and jeered and casually spelled off their underwear to reveal –

A smash echoed around the room, and he stood there breathing hard, staring at the remnants of the whiskey bottle glinting in the empty fireplace. The room was silent for the blood pounding in his ears, and he clenched his eyes shut.

He was a horrible person.

"James?"

Turning around, he saw his beautiful wife looking around the room warily, and he felt a pang in his heart as he realised how monumentally lucky he was that the woman in front of him had deigned to choose him after all the crap he'd pulled in school.

"Lils."

She looked just as out of sorts as he felt, torn up at the revelation that Peter would have gladly betrayed them for power. Though for her, so many Death Eaters implicating Snape had also hurt her beyond what he could understand.

Not that he seemed to be cut out for empathy, anyway.

He strode across the room and pulled her into his arms, leaning down to bury his nose in auburn hair, holding onto her in an attempt to ground himself. Uncle Charlus was right, he really _was_ a hypocrite. He couldn't see Charlus or Hadrian or anyone until he worked through his problems, and he knew it would take a while. He was pretty fucked up.

James pulled back before proceeding to kiss his wife senseless, gradually pushing her over to the sofa in the corner.

But for now, he'd be selfish a little while longer.

* * *

His arm was bare.

He rolled over and looked up at the ceiling, very much aware of the body next to him, the body that was also struggling with sleep after certain revelations. Having one of your best friends turn out to be one of the vile bastards you signed up to hunt down and send to prison was horrifying, and Sirius was desperately combing through his memories, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that things went wrong.

His arm was _bare_.

He clenched his eyes shut before sighing quietly, swinging his legs out the bed and getting up, walking slowly through the flat towards the kitchen. He wasn't even sure why he was being quiet, he and Remus both knew the other was awake and in turmoil, but they were clinging to the silence like a shield.

If they spoke about it, it would become real.

Sirius sipped his glass of water before ambling over to the window, fumbling through the pot to the side before withdrawing his cigarettes. He'd said he'd quit, but he didn't really care right now.

One of his best friends was a fucking Death Eater, his insane grandfather had miraculously come out of self-imposed exile in France to get rid of the Death Eaters – the bastard had even disowned Bella in the courtroom in front of everyone before she was Kissed – and his brother was shacking up with the mystery cousin of Prongs.

His brother wasn't a Death Eater.

How many times, how many _fucking_ times had Reggie asked for help? Begged, pleaded, offered anything for help, and Sirius had fucked him over.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He knew that Slytherins weren't all evil; Andi was fucking awesome, Uncle Alphard was hilarious to be around, and Aunt Cedrella had set fire to his great-grandfather Sirius' office before she eloped.

Why had he been so adamant in ignoring the truth?

_Because you wanted to prove her wrong._

He'd been such a little shit, all to prove Walburga Black wrong, and now things were awful, and all he could think about was the betrayed look on his baby brother's face that summer he left. Those eyes had condemned him, begged him to take Reggie with him, asked him what his brother had done wrong.

And Sirius had left him behind.

Sirius had thought that the incident with Moony and Snape had been the worst he could ever feel, but the feeling of guilt sat in his chest right now was infinitely worse. He might love Remus, might adore him and want to be with him forever, but Reggie was the little brother that had followed him around and tried to emulate him as much as possible, had tried to be everything that Sirius had wanted.

The brother that he'd betrayed with nary a thought.

He breathed out smoke and threw the cigarette butt into the rain outside, watching it dampen until the orange embers glowed for the last time before turning around. Making his way back to the bedroom he mused over how much he'd fucked up his brother's life. Regulus deserved to be happy without Sirius fucking things up for once, so he'd stay away and leave the happy couple be.

They deserved it.

Sirius walked into their bedroom and gazed at the moonlit figure lying on his back, green eyes on the ceiling and his thoughts probably racing. Moony always did have a tendency to get lost in his head. He strode over to the bed and climbed on, crawling over to Remus and straddling him as he fastened their lips together chastely.

After a few seconds he pulled back and met Remus' eyes. "Make me forget."

He didn't receive a verbal reply, but a few seconds later he was on his back and covered by 6'2'' of hot werewolf, so he gave in and let go.

* * *

He looked at the collection of firewhiskey bottles that he'd managed to amass over a couple of days, and mused that destroying his liver after just being cured of a poison probably wasn't the smartest decision he'd ever made.

Though frankly, Orion was all out of fucks to give at the moment.

That disgusting, vile bitch of a cousin of his – he couldn't say her name out loud, couldn't even bear to _think_ it – had ruined everything. Not only did the shrew fuck up his life, she'd tortured the children that she made him sire, and as he sifted through his memories of the past two decades he got more and more pissed off that he couldn't kill her all over again.

The problem with the potion he'd been poisoned with was that he hadn't been unaware of his life happening. He'd known everything, but he hadn't been in control. Having someone else control every single aspect of his life had been galling, infuriating, and heart-breaking when he considered his children.

Sirius was a Black as much as any other, no matter what the bitch had said. Yes, he was hot-headed and stubborn, but no more so than the hag that had birthed him. Many of their family had horrid tempers that lent themselves to explosive outbursts, but they'd all been taught to handle it and how to keep calm.

His sons hadn't had that chance.

Sirius had been all but abandoned after being Sorted into Gryffindor – but not entirely, because that would mean no torture, and of course the bitch couldn't abide by _that_ – and Regulus had been thrust into a position of 'your brother is an utter failure, and even though you love him you're going to become everything he isn't, because this family needs a proper Black more than loving siblings'.

Merlin, things were so fucked up.

His oldest thought that Orion hated him just as much as _she_ did, and getting him to come around would be such a pain in the arse considering how stubborn he was. Regulus was apparently forgoing any sense of propriety and had initiated a courtship with someone after mere days, though his father told him that he was acting of his own volition.

Both his sons were in relationships – and Sirius really needed to understand the meaning of 'discretion' in the middle of a war – and he was now widowed and single once more. Granted, he was only single because he'd killed the bitch, but the fact remained that he was free to do as he wished once more.

Well, after the mourning period anyway. A year of acting as if he was respecting his late wife would be enough before he could move on with his life. He could even remarry and have more children if he so wished.

He just hoped that his former lover accepted him back.

Orion had been interested in a young woman just before the debacle with his insane cousin, though he had been waiting for her to graduate from Hogwarts before arranging anything officially. They'd verbally confessed feelings for one another, but considering Orion was eleven years older than the woman in question, it was decided that after graduation they would arrange things with their families.

Of course, the crazy bitch ruined things by poisoning him and controlling his life for over twenty years, and there was every chance the woman he'd been planning on marrying would want nothing to do with him.

The man sighed and stood up, drinking a sobriety potion left by a helpful elf a few hours ago as he did, before heading over to the fireplace.

Just because Blacks were Slytherins, didn't mean they couldn't be brave and face their problems head on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Like I said at the top, this chapter was more serious than the others. I really wanted to get into the minds of a few other characters in this fic, specifically the ones unrelated to what's been happening. People that still don't really have a clue how these things have happened, and how that's affected them.
> 
> But remember, double update today! To make up for a serious chapter, there is another lighthearted one after this. The next chapter is essentially the final one of them getting together, but next week there will be an epilogue which at the moment doesn't really have a coherent story and is mostly just Harry and Regulus messing about. Though considering this fic began from me messing around, that might be the best tone lol.
> 
> So this story finishes next week. There will be a slice of life sequel at some point, and I can guarantee that won't have a proper story, mostly just bits and pieces of their lives together.
> 
> Anyway, check out the next chapter, and I'll see you soon!


	11. Whose family is worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'

Harry and Regulus were laying on Regulus' bed when an owl flew in and dropped a letter on the bed in front of the Black and promptly flew out.

Grey eyes blinked before picking up the letter, and upon realising it was his grandfather's handwriting opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

* * *

_**Regulus** _

_**I thought that I should keep you apprised of the situation given your father's current anger is not suited to adequate correspondence.** _

_**As of yesterday morning Orion was cleared of all traces of that vile substance and was brought back to full awareness for the first time in years. As you can imagine he was less than pleased upon being apprised of what had occurred in his life for the past two decades.** _

_**He immediately demanded to see Walburga and promptly shut himself in the room with her and remained there for several hours. The family tapestry informed me of Walburga's passing before Orion even left the room, after which he shut himself in his own suite and hasn't emerged since.** _

_**According to the public, Walburga Black's demise will be attributed to a failed potions experiment. There is no need to tell others the travesty that occurred in our family. Though I am sure that your current lover will be apprised of these events upon becoming a Black.** _

_**Did you really think you could remove the courting bracelets from Gringotts without me realising? I do profess to being concerned over your haste in offering a courtship to an individual after what appears to be days, and of course an individual that nobody knows. I have never thought you to be someone who rushes ahead with such decisions, and especially after the mess with your father I cannot in good conscience sit idly by.** _

_**Hence you and your lover will come to Black Manor for lunch at one o'clock today. I look forward to seeing you.** _

_**Arcturus Black** _

* * *

_So she's dead_. It was a strange thing to have written confirmation for something you already expected to happen, but in some ways it was so much stranger because he'd never really believed he would be rid of her. Childhood issues, probably.

The woman that had birthed he and his brother, the woman that had ruined them both, dead. She was gone for good, dead at the hands of his father, and Regulus wondered what it said about him that he didn't feel bad about knowing his own mother was dead. Surely he should feel at least some misery?

But he didn't.

If anything, he only felt bad that he _didn't_ feel bad. He felt awful that he couldn't muster even the slightest drop of mourning for Walburga Black. She was still his mother and a member of his family, someone who died after being killed in cold blood by her own husband.

Then he thought again.

She'd poisoned her own cousin and forced him to marry her and have children with her – which was rape, no matter how you looked at it – robbed Orion Black of a life he would have chosen for himself, and tortured her own sons because of her insanity.

And suddenly he didn't feel bad anymore.

 _Wait_. He looked back over the letter from his grandfather, specifically the last sentence and felt his stomach drop. Regulus warily lifted his head and looked at the clock on the wall. Eleven. They had two hours. Two hours to get the story of Harry's 'past' down perfectly, get dressed, and prepare for an inquisition.

“Fuck.”

Harry whipped his head around bewilderedly. “Regulus? What's wrong?”

 _Everything_. And apparently he'd been around Harry so much that he'd started to slip into cursing things more often. Not that he could bring himself to care much, but this lunch was going to be _painful_.

“Several things. One, Grandfather knows about our courtship and wants to check I'm doing things of my own volition due to the events between my parents; two, my mother is now dead because my father killed her, but you're not supposed to know that because you're not a Black yet and so you can't act like you hate her without reason; and three, my grandfather has invited us to lunch to 'talk' to us. Today at one.”

Harry frowned for a moment before his eyes widened and shot to the hanging clock, before paling rapidly upon realising the time.

“Fuck.”

_Fuck indeed._

* * *

Harry felt like he was going to puke and he really wasn't exaggerating. He could feel his stomach cramping with a roiling feeling in his gut, and he was getting incredibly close to emptying his stomach on the expensive marble floor.

Which would honestly just make things even worse and he would be mortified. And he'd embarrass Regulus. Which wasn't an option, no matter how much he wished to be anywhere else than where he was. He'd only been learning about pure-blood etiquette and customs for just over a year and he just knew he was going to screw things up.

He was beyond panicked, not only at the prospect of making an utter tit of himself but also because this was Lord Arcturus Black. This man was Regulus' grandfather, the Lord of one of the most powerful families in their country, and also someone who could quite easily tell Harry to fuck off if he so desired.

That was the scariest idea. He didn't want Lord Black to order Regulus to break their courtship. It would devastate him, especially as he knew that Regulus would do so without hesitation. He might have feelings for Harry but it wasn't even a competition between the family he'd grown up respecting and a man he'd known for less than a week.

He and Regulus were being led by a calm house-elf through the opulent and intimidating halls of Black Manor and Harry was trying not to simply turn and run. He'd probably look like an idiot running with his brand new robes, too.

A quick floo call and Dorea had descended on Grimmauld Place with piles upon piles of clothes, delightfully making Harry her doll while Regulus had escaped to dress himself. _Traitor_. Harry was now wearing black trousers that clung to his legs, an emerald green shirt covered with a black vest, and long green robes so dark they were nearly black, the green catching the light whenever he moved. The ensemble was finished with dragonhide boots that ended a couple of inches below his knees.

Harry could admit that he looked good, what with his glasses having been replaced by Dorea with a black pair with thin oval frames, so his bright eyes were more visible and were apparently even better with the green clothes. (Dorea made no sense, but Andromeda had taught him to just smile and nod when it came to the Black women.)

“Grandfather, Grandmother.”

He refocused at the sound of Regulus' voice and he looked over the two people in front of him as his companion stepped forward to greet his grandparents.

Arcturus Black was an imposing figure, probably about 6'2'' with broad shoulders and a certainly masculinity that he and Regulus lacked. His wavy black hair was obviously past shoulder length and was currently tied at the base of his neck, leaving his face bare to look even more intimidating. His strong jaw and high cheekbones were only emphasised by the narrow slate eyes, though they were currently softened at the sight of Regulus. A few strands of grey hair at his temples gave the overall image a distinguished air that made Harry want to fidget. This was _not_ a man to fuck with.

His wife on the other hand couldn't have been further from the man she'd married. Melania Black nee Macmillan had curly honey blonde hair held up by a numerous pins and clips, and her round brown eyes were framed by thick lashes giving her a doe-eyed expression that looked weirdly cute on a woman who was supposedly in her eighties. She was about 5'5'' and rather thin, but what made her instantly approachable was the gentle and wide smile on her face as she looked at her youngest grandson. Harry could see laugh lines around her mouth and he felt warm at the sight of her wrapping her arms around Regulus in a tight hug. Though he could admit he also felt a little envious; he'd always be jealous of seeing others receive motherly affection.

The Black couple turned from Regulus and Harry took a deep breath as he prepared for the proper introductions.

“Lord Black –”

His words were cut off at the feel of deceptively-strong thin arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him to a warm body. _What the hell?!_

“Oh, aren't you adorable! Look at him Arcturus, isn't he just the cutest!”

“Melania dear, I don't think the boy can breathe.”

The woman pulled back with wide eyes and cupped his cheeks. “Oh, I'm sorry dear! Are you okay?'”

Harry blinked rapidly in confusion. “I'm perfectly fine, Lady Black. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Melania smiled at him and waved him off. “Please, call me Melania. Lady Black's so stuffy. Why don't I show you around?”

A moment later their arms were linked and Harry was being dragged off through the manor without even realising.

_What the fuck is happening?!_

* * *

Regulus watched his cheerful grandmother pull his lover through the manor and had to fight a grin. Harry didn't realise it but he'd just been unofficially adopted by Melania Black; she always had been weak to cute people.

Melania had never been able to have more than two children and there had been fourteen years between his father and aunt. His aunt Lucretia had never had any children and it was past the time she could carry a child, and his father of course had only had him and Sirius.

Walburga had kept him and his brother nearly entirely isolated growing up, so they'd only ever gotten to see their grandparents a couple of times a year if they were lucky. Then of course Sirius had run off and Regulus had been all but thrown at the Death Eaters by Walburga.

His grandmother loved to care for children and mother people but hadn't had the chance to do so in years. Seeing a rather innocent-looking Harry walk into the manor obviously nervous had clearly smacked her over the head with maternal instincts. Even if his grandfather wasn't too pleased with Harry he'd probably capitulate because of his wife. _Thank you, Grandmother_. Though speaking of his grandfather …

“Grandfather. Are you going to test me for compulsion spells and potions now?”

He'd usually be more pissed off at the insinuation that he was able to be caught off guard, but considering it had actually happened to his father he couldn't complain. Though the very idea that _Harry_ would try and get someone to be his in such a way made him want to laugh. Of course he didn't know everything about Harry after only a week but he just couldn't see it.

The other man raised a brow at his obvious amusement but pulled his wand out all the same and waved it over Regulus' body while chanting under his breath. There were a fair few spells to go through but he knew his grandfather just wanted to be thorough. The situation with his parents had probably thrown him quite a bit.

“So I see you simply decided to charge ahead with your feelings instead of taking the time to get to know him.”

“I already know that I want him, so what's the point in prolonging the inevitable? Harry's wealthy enough as a Potter so I know he's not interested in our money, and he already confessed that he would prefer to get married and have children instead of a career, at least at first. Though I do confess it's a shame he won't join the political arena considering his opinions.”

Arcturus smirked. “Indeed. I've already sent an owl to Alphard telling him to come back and ignore whatever Walburga's been telling him about being disinherited. Others outside the family consider him to be one of the easiest Blacks to talk to, so he can do his duty to the family by working with the school governors. It would be best for him to have something to do before he ends up getting someone pregnant.

“And speaking of pregnancies, how come I've never heard of 'Harry Potter'?”

Regulus mentally took a breath to get his thoughts in order. While he loved and respected his grandfather immensely, he wasn't unaware of the man's faults. Letting Arcturus Black know that Harry had time travelled and had a wealth of information about the future would only make his grandfather interested. And by interested, he meant that Arcturus would squeeze Harry's mind dry of information he could use to his own benefit. Charlus and Dorea were one thing, but that couple was infinitely more relaxed than his grandfather. It would be in their best interest to keep Harry's secrets from this man.

“His actual name is Hadrian, 'Harry' is a nickname he prefers. He's Charlus Potter's son from his first wife and was raised abroad on Charlus' various travelling adventures.

“The reason you've never heard of him was because nobody wishes to brag about someone that might not survive. I'm sure you've noticed that Harry's rather small, and that's because he was very sickly as a child. Healers didn't think he would survive so Charlus didn't bother introducing him to society, instead spending time with him in case he lost his son.

“Dorea was actually one of the Healer's helping him, it's how she met Charlus. Harry started to get better during his mid-teens and he's been building up his strength for the past few years before coming back to Britain to get to know his younger brother.”

The younger Black finished and thanked every deity he could think of that his godmother was more than happy to falsify all manner of documents for Harry. It was certainly easier than trying to find some other Healer that could be bribed.

The other man frowned. “Is he at full health now? And why was he sick, was it something in his blood or a foreign disease?”

“He's perfectly healthy, just smaller than average. He was infected by a disease, so it's nothing inherent about him.”

“Well he seems to be the perfect spouse for you then,” Arcturus replied dryly. “What has Charlus said about the two of you together?”

Regulus grimaced. “Nothing that can be repeated in polite company. Suffice it to say he's happy at the match and we'll leave it at that.”

Charlus Potter should _not_ be encouraging him to defile Harry with a smirk on his face.

His grandfather's lips twitched. “After having had the pleasure to be spoken to rather frankly by Charlus Potter I can only imagine his 'encouragement'.”

He could feel his cheeks heat and cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should find the others? Harry's rather unused to maternal affection and quite shy. He's probably completely out of his depth.”

“Let's just hope Melania hasn't started asking him about future children.”

Regulus spared a moment to pray for his lover's sanity.

_Sorry Harry, Grandmother's a force of nature._

* * *

Sat around a table in the gardens of Black Manor with Regulus and his paternal grandparents, Harry felt completely out of his depth. Mostly because he _didn't_ feel awkward.

Knowing that you were about to meet the Lord and Lady of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black had been terrifying. Realising that Lady Black was like some stereotypical loving grandmother who kept stroking his hair and smiling at him had been bewildering. Discovering that the older couple were actually very kind and genuinely cared about Regulus' happiness had left him completely wrong-footed.

Sirius had always told him how horrid his birth family was and how they'd been cruel and controlling, but the couple in front of him threw loving glances and smiles at each other every now and then, smiled indulgently at Regulus and asked about his life, and Arcturus had even drawn Harry into a conversation about his own ramblings the other day and looked genuinely interested in his words.

Harry was beyond confused. There was no glaring, no wands being drawn, and no immediate order to break off the relationship because he was from a light family. Why had his godfather said such things? Had he been so blinded by his prejudice of all things Slytherin that he'd immediately lumped all his relatives together under the banner of 'evil'? Or had Walburga tortured her oldest so much that he hadn't been able to separate the crazy woman from their other relatives?

It was sad to think Sirius had never gotten the opportunity to see the good parts of his relatives. The people in front of him might be politically-minded but that didn't mean they were cold-hearted, Melania especially. For crying out loud, the woman had been a Hufflepuff! Did Sirius really think she was evil because she'd married a Slytherin? Harry would always love the memories of his godfather but there many things about the man that disappointed him. He dreaded to think how he would have been received by the hot-headed man if he'd gone into Slytherin like he was supposed to.

“Are you okay?”

He looked up at the sound of Regulus voice and smiled at the concerned silver eyes. Just because Sirius didn't know the truth didn't mean _he_ had to remain ignorant.

“Mm, I'm fine.”

Soft laughter interrupted them and he and Regulus turned as one to see Melania beaming at them and Arcturus smirking slightly. The woman was looking at them like all her dreams were coming true and Harry cocked his head to the side questioningly.

“I can't wait to see your future children.”

Harry felt his eyes widen and the flush crawl across his cheeks. Somehow her innocent words were even more embarrassing that Charlus' indecent teasing and he didn't know what to do. What could he say to that?

He could hear Regulus clearing his throat and saw a blush on his face that looked to match Harry's.

“Grandmother. We've only just started a relationship, isn't it too soon to think about that?”

“Not necessarily,” Melania said airily, “plenty in this family have met and gotten married within a single month, and not all of those marriages were arranged, either.

“There's nothing wrong with planning ahead. Have you ever thought about how many children you want, Harry?”

 _Why are you asking me?!_ “Um, well, I mean, I –” He broke off to glance at Regulus but only saw an interested look on his face. _You traitor, you're supposed to save me._ Apparently he was getting no help so he'd have to answer properly.

He cleared his throat while looking at the table. “I … I've always wanted a big family. I once knew a family that had seven children and I always wanted to be a part of that. My childhood was pretty lonely and I always wished I could have siblings growing up. I suppose I'd like quite a few children, as many as I could realistically have and look after.”

There was silence after his words and he wanted to sink into the floor. He took a deep breath and peeked up at his lunch companions from under his lashes. Melania was smiling so widely his cheeks hurt just looking at her. If he didn't know any better he would have said she was trying not to bounce around in her seat and squeal, but that couldn't be right, could it?

Arcturus had some sort of smug smirk on his face as if Harry's words meant something good for him, though he really couldn't figure it out. There was a reason that Harry ignored political people and conversations.

It was the face that Regulus was making that made Harry squirm the most, though. His silver eyes had darkened, and though his face was still blank Harry could see clear desire in Regulus' eyes. It was hypnotic; Harry had never really had anyone desire him as a person before, but this man in front of him wanted him and he couldn't get enough.

“What about you, Regulus?”

Either Melania Black had no clue about the mental stress her words were causing, or she was some sort of devil in disguise who was actually sadistically enjoying giving Harry a meltdown. She had married a Black, after all.

Regulus rolled his eyes before he turned to Harry fully, silver locked to green. “As many children as possible.”

Harry felt his mouth go dry and tried to ignore the soft chuckles of the older couple in the background. Regulus definitely wanted multiple children and was clearly interested in having them with Harry. At this point he didn't even care if the other man wanted him to carry them all, he wanted Regulus so much. The thought of him falling for a man so quickly would have worried him if it weren't for the fact that he really didn't give a fuck any more. Andromeda told him to live how he wanted, Charlus told him that being dictated by others' opinions was fucking pointless, and he wanted to be selfish for once.

“As many as possible.”

He smiled at the grin that Regulus sent him, leaning forward as the other man did. When they met he could hear Melania giggling and Arcturus snorting at them. He didn't care. His eyes slipped closed and he leant into the feeling of soft lips on his, revelling in how right it felt to be there.

A second chance at happiness, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> As I said on the previous chapter, next week this story ends. I've got a rambling epilogue that just does not want to be written properly, but I'm going to think of it as a way to bridge the gap between this story and the sequel. (That's what I keep telling myself, anyway.)
> 
> Hope you guys liked the chapters this week, and I'll see you again next week!


	12. Epilogue: A New Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 'Harry Potter'
> 
> Warning: mentions of mpreg; mentions of sex

"Oh God, I'm going to puke."

"Don't be stupid, you'll be fine. Now sit still so I can try and tame this bird's nest you call a hairstyle."

Ordinarily Harry would have been rather offended at the attack on his hair, even if he could admit to himself that the woman had a point. However, as it was he was more focused on breathing in and out in a controlled manner so as to not lose his breakfast on the floor and make an utter twat of himself.

He was panicking, plain and simple, and despite knowing deep down that things would be okay he couldn't help but get more and more wound up as he retreated into his mind. Why? Why was Harry so panicked, you may ask? What could possibly scare someone who'd killed a Dark Lord twice? What was so terrifying that he was tempted to run away and hide rather than deal with the situation like a grown adult?

His wedding.

Harry knew that his relationship with Regulus was going ridiculously quickly compared to what some people would think appropriate, and if he'd been in the same state of mind as his younger self he would have been beyond shocked at the speed of things. Though instead of worrying Harry had quite happily disregarded the opinions of others – egged on by his hilariously inappropriate adoptive father Charlus – and spent every single day with Regulus after their lunch with Arcturus and Melania for two weeks.

Those weeks had been spend talking about their pasts, discussing their hopes for the future, and developing compatibility while ignoring the outside world for the most part. The Death Eaters they'd caught had all been Kissed along with another dozen or so joining them or going to Azkaban, the extended Black family had strangely come crawling out of the woodwork from wherever they'd been hiding before, and Orion Black had apparently started discretely seeing an old flame that he'd wanted to marry before Walburga had happened. Harry wished them luck. (They'd need it, what with the disposition of most of the other Blacks. _Bloody mental, the lot of them_.)

After only two weeks, three weeks since they'd met, Regulus proposed to him, and Harry had quite gleefully ignored the voice in the back of his head berating him for not taking his time and said yes. He'd been happily bewildered wearing an engagement ring, never having believed he would really get the opportunity to be in a relationship that made him happy of his own volition.

Almost immediately, Melania and Dorea had practically materialised out of nowhere – he wouldn't lie, they'd scared him shitless – and decided to plan a wedding. For two weeks later. Instead of waiting and doing things slowly, the two crazy Black women – and yes, Melania counted despite being born a Macmillan, she was insane – had decided to organise a wedding in two weeks.

They'd managed to recruit some other women from the Black family, mainly Dorea's sister Cassiopeia and Melania's daughter Lucretia Prewett nee Black, to help them set everything up so quickly. They seemed to find some vindictive amusement in making magical society both confused and panicked at the same time. Confused because they had no idea who Harry even was or where he'd come from, and panicked because they had to try and clear their schedules to try and attend the event. Being invited to a wedding of someone from the House of Black was an honour that most people couldn't comprehend turning down.

Not that some people hadn't. Most notably, Sirius had quickly send a letter back refusing to come, and that night both he and Regulus had fallen asleep in silence from the pain. Harry knew that Sirius and Regulus were unfortunately very similar in certain ways that meant reconciliation was a far way off if it even happened at all. The brothers were both prideful and stubborn, neither wanting to take that first step to apologise, because for them it would be acknowledging that they were wrong. Which they weren't.

Really and truly the main culprit was Walburga, but considering the bitch was already dead there wasn't much that could be done. Sirius had been tortured by the hag so he wouldn't take the first step, because to him the rest of his birth family was like the mad woman that had raised him. Walburga had manipulated Regulus into being the perfect pure-blood to make up for her eldest's behaviour, so Regulus wouldn't apologise because he felt betrayed by Sirius.

The entire situation was a nightmare, and Harry himself felt awful that Sirius would never know him as he was in this time. To Sirius, Hadrian Potter was a random stranger that had appeared out of nowhere and was shacking up with his estranged brother. They would never have the relationship of godfather and godson that he'd cherished for years, or even that of friends. He might be a Potter, but he was from a branch of the family that James had never really dealt with because of his prejudice against Slytherins, so Sirius hadn't been introduced.

Charlus' mother had been the very Slytherin Selene Potter nee Malfoy, and then Charlus himself had married Dorea. Apparently because Fleamont and Euphemia had had James later in life after decades of trying to conceive, they'd spoiled him and left him to his own devices more often than not. They hadn't enforced strict rules on him or tried to combat his narrow-mindedness, and Harry was unsure whether or not they'd even realised their son's views at all. Considering they'd fallen ill and died less than a year after James finished Hogwarts – about seven months ago – they wouldn't have even had a chance to try and correct him afterwards, either.

James hadn't been corrected on his behaviour or his views, so he too wouldn't be attending the wedding. Harry would admit that it stung that the two people he'd grown up thinking of as his parents wouldn't be at his wedding. The day he married someone he loved and started a life with them, and he wouldn't have anyone from his old life here. His parents, his friends, Sirius or Remus, Andromeda or Teddy, nobody … He'd known it was a long shot for his parents to come what with not knowing him at this point in time, but having their physical refusal in writing had stung. Regulus had held him tight as he blinked back tears, trying to come to terms with being shunned by the very people that had given him life. It wasn't a nice feeling.

At least Charlus and Dorea would be attending for the Potters. The man that had adopted him had been very much involved in his life during the past month, making it very clear that even if the adoption had been for secrecy, he still saw Harry as a part of his family. It was heart-warming, even if the bastard didn't seem to give a crap about what was appropriate to say and what wasn't. Harry would forevermore try to forget Charlus' version of 'the talk'. He shuddered at the mere memory of the idiot's so-called 'advice'.

Charlus and Dorea both were very insistent that he visit and spend time with both them and Marcus, the couple very deliberately folding him into their lives as if he should have been there to begin with. Dorea especially seemed to be trying to mother him for some unknown reason.

"There, all done."

Like now. He turned his head and looked into the mirror. As opposed to his hair sticking up in all directions with no sense or purpose, the black spikes were artfully swept across his head, fashionably messy rather than just a mess. With his hair tamed for once, wearing brand new dark green robes lined with golden stitching along the edges, he felt strangely good about himself for once. Though he still wanted to puke.

"Harry."

He turned to face the woman who was technically his new stepmother – _bloody hell, that's a weird thought_ – and stopped at the worried look in the grey orbs. Why was she worried? She wasn't the one getting married in front of a couple hundred people that had managed to attend the wedding despite the spontaneous announcement, hundreds of people that made up the best of the best of magical Britain, the people that were incredibly important to the House of Black and useful for any of their endeavours.

_… Now I feel even worse. Do we even need to do this? We could always elope, couldn't we?_

"You know, when I married Charlus my aunt Belvina refused to come to the wedding," said Dorea. "My mother died when I was a child, and my aunt was the primary female influence in my life after that point. Her three children were fully grown by the time I lost my mother, and her husband was quite happy to let her look after me. My father was a selfish arsehole and didn't even care that his children were being cared for by his sister instead of him.

"The problem with my aunt was that she was a very prejudiced woman who despised light magic and the light-oriented families, hated muggles and muggle-borns, and was even racist towards anyone not fully white. Despite her horrid ideals she was caring and kind to me and my siblings, even Pollux who was already a father twice over at that point.

The woman smiled ruefully. "Having the woman who I thought of as a mother-figure refuse to attend my own wedding because she was close-minded was extraordinarily painful to experience. Trust me, I know how you feel."

"Though I also know you and Regulus love one another deeply. Ignore what anyone says; if you want to rush ahead, that's your prerogative, and if you want to have half a dozen children, you can. My birth family wouldn't have organised such an elaborate ceremony at our ancestral manor if they didn't support you."

Dorea strode up to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her warmth and holding him tightly.

"I know you're nervous, and considering your previous life I can empathise. But this is the time to ignore what everyone keeps saying about marriage and think about what you want." She pulled back and looked him in the eye. "You're about to do something you want with the person you want. Why are you so nervous?"

 _She's right._ The thought hit him over the head and he wanted to laugh at himself. He was getting married to someone he loved – _and yes, you_ can _love someone so quickly_ – and he was going to be happy. Regulus didn't care that Harry didn't know everything about 'proper' magical behaviour, he didn't try and tell Harry how he should speak and act, and the man he was marrying wanted him for being him, not because of his so-called fame.

Why was he nervous?

"Fuck them."

Dorea smirked. "Indeed. Now go out there and get your man. Bonus points if you give him a proper snog that offends all the guests."

Harry snorted before breaking down laughing. _I love this family._

* * *

Regulus tried not to grin like a demented idiot at the image of his husband casually and not at all subtly showing everyone he didn't give a crap what anyone else thought of him.

While common opinion might hold that Squibs shouldn't be spoken of in polite conversation, his uncle Marius had actually turned up with his husband, their children and their grandchildren. Arcturus had revoked Marius' disownment years ago by wrangling an agreement from the Squib to expand business in the muggle world for the Blacks. Arcturus Black was a man who believed in using every resource possible, regardless of what others thought.

He'd also welcomed Cedrella and Andromeda back into the family recently, if only for vindictive revenge against his father who he'd hated with a passion. (Apparently something Harry said had struck a chord with the older man.) Cedrella had been disinherited by the older Sirius for telling him to "fuck off" (actually verbatim from the spirited woman) before promptly eloping with Septimus Weasley. Andromeda had been tossed out by her father Cygnus, but Arcturus despised him too and quite respected Andromeda's stubborn courage, so had quite happily welcomed her and her daughter back into the family a mere week ago. In the midst of Regulus marrying the mysterious eldest son of Charlus Potter after mere weeks, a few Blacks returning to the family fold was nothing.

He watched as his Squib uncle and husband were nonchalantly chatting about muggle music and had to bite his tongue before he started laughing. Not only was Harry openly socialising with someone who couldn't use magic and so was scorned by nearly everyone here, but he was also discussing muggle entertainment. Such a topic wasn't something anyone around them would care to admit, not wanting to earn the disgust of their peers, but Harry clearly didn't give a shit what anyone thought of him.

Regulus loved him.

It didn't matter what anyone said to him, expressing their 'concern' for him – and really, these people needed to work on their ability to navigate verbal politics – and wondering if theirs was a political match, he would happily admit he was in love with the green-eyed imp that had magically appeared in an unconscious heap in his attic. (Even now he couldn't quite comprehend the reality of their initial meeting.)

He especially enjoyed the intimate kiss Harry had graced him with in front of everyone.

It'd been the furthest thing from appropriate, but he hadn't cared at all and had pulled the smaller man closer to the sound of appalled gasps and wolf-whistling from Charlus. (The man was entirely out of control, and Regulus had no clue how Dorea dealt with her husband on a daily basis.) Their marriage had been cemented as one based on genuine emotion in a very physical and unsubtle manner for all to see. Which he was very grateful for, as this way he could enjoy the reception with his husband uninterrupted and watch out for family drama possibly erupting into duels.

His uncle Cygnus was visibly furious at his no-longer disinherited daughter being here, though he was also comically confused at Narcissa acting so welcoming towards her estranged sister. He clearly didn't understand sibling solidarity; considering his siblings consisted of psychotic Walburga and solitary playboy Alphard, he'd never encountered such a concept.

Sibling solidarity was also in full-swing with his aunts Callidora Longbottom nee Black and Cedrella Weasley nee Black, the two women calmly catching up in a corner while ignoring everyone around them. Their children and grandchildren, as well as those of their late sister Charis Crouch nee Black, were stood to the side in one large and loud bundle, as well as Molly Weasley's three Prewett brothers who were all alive at this point in time, the twins Gideon and Fabian having avoided what had apparently been a very messy fate if Harry was to be believed.

Cassiopeia and Dorea had seemingly teamed up to annoy their brother Pollux. His other grandfather looked highly irritated with the entire situation, though Regulus supposed he should be grateful that the prejudiced man approved of Harry. He didn't know what his unpredictable husband had said to his grandfather earlier, but the usually-strict man had roared with laughter and clapped Harry on the back before going to find Marius.

He still didn't understand his grandfather's perspective when it came to his Squib brother. He'd heard the older man complain frequently about Squibs being useless and how they should be removed from their society as soon as possible, though he got on very well with his younger brother and met up with him often. Was it because Marius was actually making the Blacks money in the muggle world? Was his grandfather's true problem how Squibs didn't contribute to the family?

Marius' children were all focused on their own young children and making sure they were content in the area for younger guests. Marius currently had eight grandchildren, six of which bore the Black name. His youngest daughter was also pregnant, meaning the family was growing bigger by the year.

It didn't matter whether or not a child bore the Black name, if they had Black blood they were still a part of the family. His aunt Belvina's Burke descendants, the Longbottoms, Crouches, Weasleys, and little Marcus Potter were all Blacks. If Sirius ended up eloping with his werewolf lover and taking his name as was expected, their children would also be Blacks even if they were named Lupin. (Honestly, his brother and his friends had been nothing but arrogance wrapped up in idiocy. Did they really think nobody had figured out that Remus Lupin disappeared on the full moon every single month? Imbeciles, the lot of them.)

He turned to see Charlus and Alphard stood together and grinning in a manner that set off all manner of alarm bells in his head, though to be frank he couldn't be arsed with dealing with those two. It was his wedding day, he should be allowed to simply enjoy the day with his husband.

_Speaking of …_

Regulus listened as the music transitioned into a slower romantic piece and strode over to his husband, gently grabbing Harry's elbow to catch his attention. The smaller man turned, and upon seeing Regulus lit up with a warm smile that took over his face and brightened the entire room. (Regulus had finally come to the conclusion that he was indeed a massive sap, but as long as nobody other than Harry and the relatives he actually liked found out, he honestly didn't care.)

"Regulus!"

The man in question was eternally gratefully that his insane mother had seen fit to instruct him on emotional compartmentalisation using Occlumency, or he would have a total fool of himself by gazing at his husband with a besotted visage on his face whenever he spoke to him. Or looked or him. Or simply existed in the same room as him.

_… Dear Merlin, I've turned into one of those hopeless romantics, haven't I?_

"Regulus, how are you?"

He turned to his uncle, relieved at the opportunity to distract himself before he embarrassed himself by doing something entirely inappropriate for their current setting. When and Harry were alone would be a different matter altogether.

"I'm fine, Uncle Marius. Enjoying the music, worrying ever so slightly what the combined minds of Alphard Black and Charlus Potter can come up with … You know, the usual."

Marius smirked at him. "I see. I shall go and see what my errant nephew is attempting this time with a willing accomplice. Perhaps I'll go and see if your father would like to accompany me, Orion looks as if he'd be anywhere else than with Abraxas Malfoy right now."

"Anyone would prefer to be anywhere else," Harry snorted.

"Indeed. It was lovely to meet you Hadrian, and it was nice to see you again Nephew. Do keep in touch, the pair of you."

Marius then strode off to corral Orion into preventing Alphard and Charlus from causing untold anarchy, and Regulus turned to his husband, casually running his fingers up and down Harry's arm as he did.

"Would you care to dance, Husband?"

Harry shivered slightly at the term of address but nodded with a smile all the same, the expression looking just a touch shy which wasn't helping Regulus' control. He was acutely aware that this evening was their wedding night, and as their physical relationship hadn't progressed to sexual intimacy yet there would be a certain level of expectation current throughout the evening. Not to mention this would be Harry's first time experiencing such relations at all.

Saying that Regulus was eagerly anticipating it would be vastly understating his emotions, though he was very much determined to ensure a great experience for his husband's first time.

He led Harry to the middle of the dance floor and positioned himself to lead, already every much aware of how much the smaller man could _not_ dance. It was quite entertaining – not to mention bewildering – to see Harry go from gracefully moving across the floor while duelling at high speed to tripping over his own feet during a waltz. He wasn't going to say anything though; he still remembered the pain of the first and only Stinging Hex he received when he made the mistake of laughing about the matter.

Regulus peered down to see a slight furrow between his husband's brow and bent forward so he could speak directly into Harry's ear. "Is there something wrong?"

Harry met his eyes and smiled softly. "Sorry. I just still can't quite believe I'm married. It's … weird."

"Should I be offended?" Regulus teased.

Green eyes rolled as Harry snorted. "I didn't mean _you_ were weird, you prat. I mean this entire situation. I told you, I was almost universally expected to get back with my ex and do what she wanted.

"I never expected to choose my own life with someone I love."

The sight of those glowing eyes focused on him with so much love and trust in them was too much for Regulus' composure, and ignoring the guests around them he leant down and firmly pressed his lips to Harry's, losing himself in the feeling of the smaller man eagerly responding.

A loud – and annoyingly familiar – wolf-whistle interrupted them and Regulus pulled back to see his husband's adoptive father playfully leering at them with a demented grin on his face. More than a few of the older Lords, Ladies and associates of his family were looking at he and Harry with scandalised faces at their intimacy. _Merlin forbid that a married couple actually have feelings for one another._ The idea that their marriage was based on genuine emotion rather than a politically advantageous relationship was baffling to most of these people, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes at their confusion. _Harry really wasn't joking when he said magical society was fucked up._

He turned back to see a distinct flare of arousal in green orbs and thought about their situation. The reception still had a few hours left, and it would be highly improper and somewhat rude if he absconded with Harry right now. They should have a proper send-off with the guests after socialising for a few hours to ensure that the House of Black remained in good standing with the other families.

Then again, his husband was practically undressing him with his eyes right now, gazing up at him with undisguised anticipation and just a hint of nerves. The majority of his relatives looked amused at him being shamelessly wrapped around the smaller man in front of everyone, and he was very much reciprocating Harry's emotions.

Stay here, talk about nonsense with people he didn't care about and try and be a good little Black, or leave with Harry and get a head start on their honeymoon, specifically their wedding night?

Regulus wasn't stupid.

He turned back to Harry and leant forward so his lips brushed the other man's ear. "How would you like to leave early, husband of mine?"

The shiver was much more pronounced this time, and he tried not to smirk smugly at the excited response from Harry.

He looked over Harry's shoulder to meet the amused eyes of his grandfather Arcturus, and after a second the older man gave a small nod to Regulus before turning to murmur to Orion. The new groom's lips twitched as he wrapped his hands around Harry's slim waist and held on tightly.

"Hold on."

Before Harry could even open his mouth, Regulus reached out with his magic and Apparated them away. The guests at Black Manor were left gaping as the newly-wed couple left them without a word, and the only sound was the roaring laughter of Charlus and Alphard.

Arcturus just looked at the spot where his youngest grandson had just left and snorted into his whiskey.

_Bloody teenagers._

* * *

Harry woke up feeling far more tired than he usually did, and even the warmth against his back which had become rather familiar over the past few weeks wasn't enough to distract him from mentally feeling over his body.

He had of course suffered from nightmares for years at this point, with everything from the graveyard to the Battle of Hogwarts leaving him bolting awake and sweating at night, heart racing as his mind played over every horrific detail he could think of. His nightmares never left him feeling quite like this however, and he wondered what had happened last night to leave him feeling like he had no energy. Harry shifted and then froze, trying to will his memories to the forefront of his mind as he slowly started to panic.

Though that could be the fact that he was clearly naked and aching in places he never had before.

Before he could have a meltdown, the arm thrown over his waist tightened in a manner that had become something of a routine in recent weeks, and even if his mind hadn't yet caught up to reality his body relaxed automatically, subconsciously aware that the owner of said arm wasn't a threat to his wellbeing and was actually the source of comfort and safety.

After a moment he blinked as awareness came flooding back and he wanted to groan in embarrassment as he closed his eyes.

 _Regulus_.

The man he loved, his _husband_ now – _oh God, I'm actually married_ – was spooning him from behind as was what usually happened as they slept. Even if they went to sleep with their positions reversed, they ended up swapping nearly every single time sometime during the night. He supposed it had something to do with subconsciously wanting to be taken care of. Or maybe his body just liked that position, he wasn't sure.

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He was naked, he was aching at the bottom of his back, and he was pressed to Regulus' chest as he was held close. Regulus' _naked_ chest. Clearly their wedding night had been a success, and even if he was more than a little sore it was something he could put up with, especially at the knowledge of where the pain had come from.

Harry turned to bury his burning face into the pillow below him as memories from the previous night came flooding back to him. He and Regulus not even touring their honeymoon destination before they immediately went in search of the bedroom, having Regulus slowly undress him with a reverent look in his silver eyes, his new husband slowly preparing him physically and verbally every step of the way, the other man going slowly and lovingly …

_I had sex._

Despite feeling mortified he could feel a grin work its way across his face. He and Cho had never got anywhere close to sex, and Ginny trying to plead with him had only served to turn him off rather than entice him. And of course any interest he had in men had never been reciprocated in any way, so he'd never really had the chance to do much of anything before.

He'd gone years without any substantial relationship, yet after the world's most ridiculous accident – well, maybe not _the_ most ridiculous, but it had to be up there somewhere – he'd gotten into a relationship after a week, gotten engaged three weeks after meeting Regulus, and a mere five weeks after ending up in the past, here he was, married to Regulus Black.

And no longer a virgin.

The pain might be a little irritating, but if anything he relished in it. It proved that his memories were real, that _this_ was real, and he would gladly welcome anything that brought his memories into reality. He could kind of understand why people were so obsessed with sex now. _Merlin, I didn't realise it would feel that_ good _. Is it bad I want an encore so soon?_

"Knut for your thoughts?"

The sleepy tone was stupidly attractive, the deep voice made huskier seeing as his husband was still half asleep, and Harry nearly froze in embarrassment before he caught himself. This was his _husband_. They were married, and in love, and he could do what he wanted right now.

He rolled over and wandlessly cast a couple of breath-freshening spells before surging forward and pressing his lips to Regulus', pushing harder at the moan of surprise he elicited. Without separating he crawled on top of the taller man and straddled him, firmly ignoring his aching muscles as he was far more focused on the body underneath him rather than his own.

A few minutes of exploring the mouth underneath him later he pulled back, breathing like he'd run a marathon but smirking at the darkened silver orbs and the red flush on his husband's cheeks. It was a tempting image.

"You know, we could always try things the other way."

Harry raised a brow in question. "What do you mean?"

"Imagine what we did last night, except with us in the other's position," Regulus purred with a smirk.

"Do you – I mean, do you mind doing things like that?"

Grey eyes softened as they gazed up at him. "Harry, I consider our relationship to be that of partners. Equals. I have no problem with being in what many would consider to be a more submissive role in the bedroom."

Regulus paused for a moment before leering at him. "Besides, I can't wait to satisfy my curiosity concerning what you can do with _that_."

He finished by nodding between Harry's legs and Harry felt a shiver of arousal course through him. _Well, then …_

"I suppose I shall have to indulge your curiosity, Mister Black."

"Please do, Mister Black."

And with that, Harry leant down with a look of predatory anticipation on his face.

_Curiosity, indeed._

* * *

_He has to be doing this on purpose._

Regulus looked across the table to his seemingly-innocent husband as he practically molested the chocolate gelato cone in his hand. The small pink tongue darting out to rhythmically lick the ice cream clearly stood out against the dark dessert, and the small moans and hums of pleasure were mentally being translated to every single sound Regulus had managed to coax out of Harry's mouth in the throes of pleasure in their bed. Or the bathroom. And the kitchen. And on one memorable occasion against the front door of their hotel room.

He shifted in his seat and discretely crossed his legs. _Am I being punished? Why can't we be somewhere private?_

Unfortunately (for Regulus) the newlyweds were in a very public venue at the Colosseum, as today's agenda consisted of touring Rome's magical sites. Because Harry hadn't ever left the United Kingdom, their honeymoon had been organised as a travelling trip across several European countries. He had of course travelled extensively as a Black, but Harry had looked adorably ecstatic over being in a foreign country, even a tourist-filled Italy. (He continuously had to remind himself that Harry's disgusting muggle relatives hadn't done anything he could murder them for. Yet.)

Harry had been like a child on a sugar-high walking through historic sites and it had practically melted Regulus' heart. (Not that he would _ever_ let anyone know about him devolving into a disgusting romantic idiot.) The smaller man had turned to him several times with a huge grin on his face and a grateful look in his eyes. Regulus had been reminded so many times over the past few weeks how lucky he was to have this incredible man genuinely love him and appreciate him for who he was, and he couldn't quite comprehend how he'd managed to create such a life for himself in barely any time at all.

He wasn't in the service of an insane megalomaniac anymore, the hag that had birthed him wasn't alive to ruin anyone's life anymore, and he was married to an intelligent, entertaining and genuine man that he loved.

Though he wished that Harry wouldn't keep licking that ice cream like that. Turning him on in public wasn't very nice.

"Harry."

Said man stopped doing indecent things to his cold snack – and Regulus wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not; he really needed help – and turned to the taller man with wide eyes and flushed cheeks from the gelato. The image was doing terrible things to his composure, and at this rate they weren't going to make their dinner reservation later on.

There was a smear of chocolate at the corner of Harry's mouth and he smirked inwardly. Being around an impulsive former Gryffindor with a penchant for fucking with people for the fun of it was bound to have rubbed off on him eventually. He casually leant forward, and as his husband opened his mouth to speak he licked the ice cream off Harry's face and swept his tongue into the mouth in front of him in the same move.

He swallowed the surprised moan and continued exploring the cold mouth, moving a hand to the back of Harry's neck as he did to pull him closer. The angle was awkward with them both leaning across a table, but Regulus was more than content in drawing out the enticing moans by mapping every inch of the smaller man's mouth he could.

A smattering of chuckles caught their attention and they both pulled back at the same time, turning to the side to see three older women looking at them with indulgent grins on their faces. The fond look in their eyes reminded Regulus of his grandmother Melania and he could feel the red physically creep across his face. He turned back to his husband to see his face an alarming shade of red and the green eyes out of sight as Harry was staring studiously at the floor.

"Would you like to go somewhere else?"

Harry nodded, gaze still firmly on the floor as he looked exceedingly uncomfortable, and Regulus felt a sliver of unease as he took Harry's arm and gently guided him to his feet. They walked in silence to the Apparition point, and Regulus couldn't figure out what the problem was. Did Harry not like being affectionate in public? He'd thought the smaller man shoving his tongue down Regulus' throat at the wedding had suggested otherwise, but now he wasn't so sure. Did he feel embarrassed to be seen with Regulus? Was he –

"Hold on."

He refocused just as Harry wrapped his arms around his waist and Apparated them away, and Regulus felt a wave of vertigo as they landed horizontally with Harry on top, though thankfully there was a soft surface underneath him.

Before he could question him, Harry straddled him and proceeded to ravish his mouth, fingers raking through his hair and nails scratching his scalp as Harry's tongue seemed determined to taste everything it could.

The smaller man pulled back after a minute, glasses fogged and crooked, with a small glare on his face as he stared down at Regulus. "You don't get to snog me like that in public and turn me on and not take responsibility. If you're going to do things like that, you damn well better make sure it leads to a bed, are we clear?"

Regulus blinked before smirking. "Of course, let me make it up to you."

And with that, he flipped their positions and proceeded to thoroughly reimburse his husband.

(Unsurprisingly, they never did make their dinner reservation.)

* * *

"We're not actually supposed to be up here, are we?"

"Harry, what are you accusing me of?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to know what to deny in case anyone asked later on."

Regulus snorted and the sound from the aristocratic pure-blood was so ordinary and common that Harry laughed out loud, letting go and leaning his head back as he gave in to his hysterics.

A huffing sound from the side and a mumbled "It's really not funny" just made him laugh harder, falling onto his back with his eyes closed. It wasn't even the fact that it was funny – though it bloody was, even if his husband would probably deny it for years to come – it was that their entire situation was so mundane and normal that he couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

They were sat on the walls of a historical castle in Portugal having an impromptu picnic – even if he could tell full well they were probably breaking a dozen or so muggle and magical laws just by sitting up here – as they watched the sunset like the pair of sappy romantics they really were but denied being.

A weight settled on his body and he opened his eyes and looked down his chest, coming face to face with the stoic face of Regulus, a thin brow raised in derisive question. Or that's how it would have been without the wicked amusement shining from silver eyes. Clearly Harry had managed to corrupt Regulus so much that he'd all but given up on etiquette when they were together. The time traveller thought that was way more of a miracle than offing Voldy.

"Should I be concerned about my husband laughing manically like a crazy person?"

Harry grinned. "I thought you'd be glad, I'm fitting in more and more with your relatives every day."

"Please don't turn into my insane family, there are enough of them as there is."

"But Regulus, I _am_ a Black now."

The taller man smirked. "That is very true."

Regulus leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips for a few seconds before pulling back and smiling softly at him. Harry had a feeling he had a ridiculously goofy grin on his face but seeing as his husband hadn't said anything he was good. Or Regulus had dived so far into sap territory that he was oblivious to his faults. It could really be either at this point.

The silver-eyed man rested his head on Harry's chest and reached out to link their fingers together, absentmindedly stroking Harry's hand with his thumb. His husband seemed to be in deep thought, so he leant his head back and looked into the sky which was currently painted with warm colours, the slashes of orange, red and yellow a nice contract to the surrounding flora.

"Harry. Can I ask you a question?"

Ordinarily he would have been sarcastic and pointed out the other man had just asked him a question with that statement, but the tone of voice was that of someone wanting a serious discussion.

"Of course you can, you can ask me anything."

"You said that you wanted as many children as you could possibly have," Regulus began carefully, "however, you never said anything about when you wanted children. Do you wish to wait a while before starting a family, or do you want to … begin soon?"

Harry blinked at the question and took a moment to organise his thoughts. It was true that he'd always wanted a family in one form or another, and while over time it had shifted from wanting parents to care for him to having children he could care for himself, the most fundamental part of his wish had been desiring a family unit to belong to.

If he was being completely honest with himself – which he had been more recently, thanks to being lectured by Charlus and Dorea – he wanted a family much more than he wanted some sort of successful and respected career. Harry wanted to help his husband with whatever he wanted, get to know his new family and assist them with what he could, and he wanted to have a growing family that he could take pride in teaching.

He wanted children to raise more than anything.

"I … the only thing I really want to do is have children, so I would prefer to have them soon. I understand if you don't –"

He was cut off by lips on his, only this time the kiss was the complete opposite of chaste, and in a small corner of his mind he was incredibly grateful for Regulus' forethought in putting up all manner of concealment spells around the area. If anyone interrupted them now, he might very well embrace everything about his new surname and hex the hell of them.

Regulus completely devoured his mouth, tasting every single inch he could reach with his tongue while his hands were busy holding his arms so tight he'd probably have bruises. He couldn't really bring himself to mind. Harry's moans were swallowed by the man above him who seemed to be very agreeable to having children soon if their current situation was anything to go by.

Harry shifted his legs to get more comfortable and winced as the stones underneath him dug into his back. This wasn't going to work. He kissed back hard before pulling back and looking up into eyes practically radiating arousal. Not that Harry was smug or anything. Not at all.

"Not that I don't love you, but this wall is going to kill my back if we shag here, and that isn't the kind of pain I'm willing to accept. I'd say sorry, but our bed is a hell of a lot more comfortable than a pile of centuries-old rocks."

Despite the tension, Regulus smirked at his words and wandlessly vanished their things before holding on tight and Apparating them back to the room, repeating Harry's trick and sending them straight to the bed.

As they landed, the silver-eyed man leant down and kissed him gently before pulling back. "You're really sure about having children as soon as possible?"

Harry nodded decisively. The idea might scare him a little but he knew what he wanted. "I'm sure." He frowned briefly. "But who do you want to carry them?"

Regulus smirked again. Harry wondered what it said about him that he found it stupidly arousing. "I do believe, Mister Black, that I said this marriage was a partnership. I'm not too bothered either way. I figured that it was something we could both try out at some point. But for now …"

He cut off and leant forward, stopping a mere centimetre from Harry's face. "I believe we should just let nature take its own course and surprise us. If that's agreeable to you?"

Harry grinned. "You do know with our luck we'll probably both end up pregnant at the same time, don't you?"

"Don't jinx us, Husband."

He grinned and closed the gap between their lips, bringing his hands up to hold the other man's face and pull him closer.

Regulus was right. Things would happen on their own, and they'd deal with them as they happened.

Harry was prepared for his second life of craziness.

He was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done!
> 
> I'm sorry if people found the ending a little weak, but I literally had no clue how to finish it. I'm hoping it will sort of bridge the gap between Regulus and Harry fixing the past, and the story of their lives together.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support I've gotten, I'm so grateful for everything and you guys are awesome! I didn't realise my bored rambling from writer's block would spawn its own story, but here we are :D
> 
> The sequel will probably come out in a few weeks, but I'll make sure to post a chapter here to let everyone know. Just as a reminder, the sequel will literally just be slice of life bits and pieces of their lives, nothing really coherent just small moments that I want to write about.
> 
> Anyway, this is the end. Thanks again, and I'll see you next time.
> 
> Bye!


	13. SEQUEL UP

Hey guys, just a quick announcement that chapter one of the sequel's been posted. Check out 'With Age Comes ... Absurdity?'


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